Certificate of Live Birth

You arrive on a Friday, with hail & vast

moving grey above small window

of white light, as a wound

which might be a passing through

of particulate ultra violet waiting

to arrive in sight, our adjectival

see. will it be violent, our photographic

ring around the light?

we inviolate what we can’t see,

revelate its arrival with our question:

boy or girl?

please, let the unseen speak in me.

there are stellar nurseries we cannot grimace.

i am a certificate of a bright somewhere.

you are a poem passing through

the membranes i have moved, mountainous you,

head up-of the interrogative blue