Mari Starts Here

Nobody knew if I would live or die
They wanted me to live; I know she did
I’m angry that I made my lover cry
If I had all control, I would forbid
Myself to lay all broken and receive
My lover’s whispered words, that I’m to heal
So we can come together and conceive.
I’d touch my lover’s breast and I would feel
The softness she prepares for baby’s milk
And thus I know I must become complete
Her softness and her warmth are strong as silk
And I must conjure strength and frictious heat
She whispered I must heal so we can make
A baby, not some asinine mistake!

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