Barbacoa

September 28, 2013

It was still summer, so I know I was fourteen.
The swell in my belly began to flutter like a fish,
and my breasts were swollen and taut.

It seemed everything I touched made me sick.

We were on the deck, as the sun set,
the air was wet, and clinging to my skin.

The smell of meat,
coming from the grill.

Inside sat a young and hopeful couple I had never seen before,
and then you asked me to give them my baby.

dairy-cow

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