The Unborn Is Not Mine. Poem by Teacher Kevin

When I saw you approach,
My heart skipped a beat.
Lost in memories of olden days
Almost a decade when you left my gaze
Yet I still felt the warm love.
As you stretched your arms for hugs
Over your dress my sight hangs.
The unborn is already living.


Ten years walked between our skin like a ghost,
A decade's dust upon the words unsaid.
I never tucked you in or pulled the sheet,
Or smoothed the pillow for your tired head.
Now we pace this shore where old embers glow,
A phantom hunger in a world of design;
The village watches us and whispers of the past
Everyone knows you are mine, yet the unborn is not mine

Your hand in mine feels like a standard key,
Returning to a lock it used to know.
We walk the paths we should have walked as one,
Watching the summer sky begin to cloud.
I taste the decade in the way we kiss,
A desperate nectar, heavy and divine;
The world sees two halves finally made whole
Everyone knows you are mine, yet the unborn is not mine.

But then we pause, and I reach out to touch
The curve of silk that stretches over your core.
A sudden pulse, a sharp and rhythmic leap,
A life I didn't start begins to war.
Under my palm, the hidden stranger stirs,
A boundary drawn in a soft, rounded line;
Your eyes say 'always, ' but your body says 'him'
Everyone knows you are mine, yet the unborn is not mine.

The kick is cruel, a small and steady drum,
Beating the rhythm of a different name.
I hold the vessel of another's hope,
While feeding on our old, recycled flame.
The truth is heavy as the weight you bear,
A bitter vintage from a hollow vine;
Our shadows blend, but our futures are severed.
Everyone knows you are mine, yet the unborn is not mine.