My tongue slips out of my mouth

I can no longer speak

I call upon my mother to help me vocalize

and as she held me close to her chest

I counted her soft heartbeats—

How many did I hear when I was in your stomach?

Was the color of the amniotic fluid too blinding, or did I just confuse it all,

as I brood moodily within you?

Outside, these winter days,

I sleep alone

dreaming of a garden of entangled arteries,

and the hot blood of your womb

once my warm, tropical home