a tuesday—and you are at rest

VII.

a tuesday—and you are at rest
and then you are not

you are at once an elastic flash

between what’s exact

and a stream of thawed stone flowing:

the sea the berg the sea the berg the sea 
we drift on

you and me

and this nau-sea,

first cold-cramped, then thermal calm,

walking in a department store

with a friend, and then

a little sprint

of fluid (there was no burst)

a slight pinch and blot

spread on the crotch

of my underwear.  i’d see the mid-wife

the next day.  i’d read and she’d said your head

would press on the bladder,

that i’d pee and feel the need to pee

a lot.

and i did tell her then

but she didn’t check…

and maybe things would have been different.

that casual amniotic leak

sometimes a teaspoon or two

sometimes enough to need new

clothes…

for days: spotting, calling, adjusting

my posture…

rigid.  suppressed.  the wet perception

of piss—but not that,

and not that word—rather:

~—water—~

your sea

moving past you and out of me,

under the the door

but it's days before you’d try

to come through yourself

and,  ultimately, could not…