Born Again

in small moments
pregnant with poems
all embryonic
i find the latch—
the space between us
knew no womb,
born fully formed,
unconnected by any cord
so no guilt grabs me when
we talk about the moon
about night sounds
new year’s day
growing up evangelical
believing in routine
our parents and poetry
how our fathers file our taxes
how we both wear
our mothers’ silver crosses
nestling the small keyhole
of the ribcage
but now
in this warm darkness
curled up, my spine
curving toward the absence
quiet in the big ache
of not knowing
whether you are thinking on me
i am waiting for the poem to be born.

About the Author

Olivia Stowell is a graduate student at Villanova University pursuing her Masters in English. Her recent poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in The Albion Review, Ghost City Review, FIVE:2:ONE’s #thesideshow, Madcap Review, Right Hand Pointing, and The Merrimack Review.