The Copulator's Son Poem by Melissa Hurst

The ghost of a distant man
has possessed this child.
The face and body are identical
and I was bewitched by him
after the seventeenth year.

I gave him a different name,
but I could not mold his flesh
nor did I wish to.
I watched as he morphed
into the man I could rarely look upon
because of his god-like charm.

The vessel of my past love hovers above me.
The copulator's twin considers me
differently than the copulator once did.
The dear youngster kisses me passionately
while the copulator spurted his seed
the way mutts eject theirs.

Love was not a welcomed spirit
and so he demanded that a different position
be performed where no eyes would meet
and no lips would greet.
But my eyes could not avert themselves
from the thrusting man.

I see the thrusting man's reflection,
I've seen him from babe to adult.
It's as if the copulator died and buried
his spirit within my bowels,
morphing into flesh
and slumbering within me
until he grew weary and wished to see life again.

The head of twins tore me apart
and leaking nipples pleased their parched lips.
The unnamed man bonded through the ripened fruit
and I felt him near.
And as these thoughts permeated my mind,
I whispered, 'Never leave me, my dear boy.'
And he replied, 'I'll never leave the woman who nursed me with her breast,
yesterday and tonight.'