← v19n1, Spring 2020
Poetry · Volume 19, Number 1

Annunciation, without Angel

Look at me—I was already

acquainting myself with anguish.

I did not feel special. I sensed

doom that first instant—your

heavy weight in my arms,

umbilical cord still joining us,

your grown body draped over me

like a cloying velvet curtain—

eyes fastened skyward, always

looking through me. I should have

said no, should have run away,

ended it all. But I could not

turn down all that love. Too late,

I found it was not worth it. God

does not take no for an answer.

If I had refused, it would have ended

the same. But then I could wear

some scar of comfort that mine

were not the hands that married

you off to wood, to ruin.