Stunned to wakefulness
as if contracting too fast,
She hears his native cry
as if he'll never feed again
and pulls them both together,
latches on like they were stitched
before the clamps came down and sealed
the sullen ache of afterbirth:
straight to her stomach his stomach,
sharp thrill at her heart / his heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful. All six of my children were breastfed and it was a beautiful (and healthy) thing. Thanks, Deborah