i was born today

into a world i had created

in past sleep somehow

emerging suddenly from the deep

warm depths of a womb

that was yours, ours (now

defunct). and barren was i

and dry as these lips and cracked

and raw. a sour umbilical

hacked with rust and blunt

lay heavy on the floor

among the detritus of

words (also ours, once)

of this, this

so-called poetry.