a victim of feminine hygiene.
Billions of my brothers and sisters
were washed away in the menstrual stream.
I may have been nothing, but for a
half witted sperm dragging its Y chromosome
beyond the perils of penetration
and tying a knot between man and wife.
I don't remember meeting myself,
that chance embrace of two random cells,
clambering down the uterine wall,
lodging there for our ten month honeymoon.
Two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty two billion
cells, formed zygote, formed embryo, formed me!
By birthright, I should have been told aborting
was an option to meeting this world head first.
1-4-85
11-29-14 Submitted to:SGVPQ 64 Fall 2014 Issue
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