Cotton Tree Drive

Yesterday,
we named our son.

Flushed, I felt his imaginary kick
like a promise.

You took his tiny, ghostly hand,
patrolling Kowloon Park. My boys.

Today –
we tried.

We tried but I could feel myself
growing colder. He is a foetus in a jar now,

an implausibility. We will not marry
on Cotton Tree Drive. I will not swell

with your child.

It is Tomorrow
and I know I am hard to love.

Advertisements

About fiercemissc

Twenty-something Geordie girl living and working in Hong Kong. Young, free and single and making the most of it.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s