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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345515" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Unknown Girl In A Maternity Ward</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Child, the current of your breath is six days long.<br>You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed;<br>lie, fisted like a snail, so small and strong<br>at my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed<br>with love. At first hunger is not wrong.<br>The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded<br>down starch halls with the other unnested throng<br>in wheeling baskets. You tip like a cup; your head<br>moving to my touch. You sense the way we belong.<br>But this is an institution bed.<br>You will not know me very long.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The doctors are enamel. They want to know<br>the facts. They guess about the man who left me,<br>some pendulum soul, going the way men go<br>and leave you full of child. But our case history<br>stays blank. All I did was let you grow.<br>Now we are here for all the ward to see.<br>They thought I was strange, although<br>I never spoke a word. I burst empty of you,<br>letting you see how the air is so.<br>The doctors chart the riddle they ask of me<br>and I turn my head away. I do not know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yours is the only face I recognize.<br>Bone at my bone, you drink my answers in.<br>Six times a day I prize<br>your need, the animals of your lips, your skin<br>growing warm and plump. I see your eyes<br>lifting their tents. They are blue stones, they begin<br>to outgrow their moss. You blink in surprise<br>and I wonder what you can see, my funny kin,<br>as you trouble my silence. I am a shelter of lies.<br>Should I learn to speak again, or hopeless in<br>such sanity will I touch some face I recognize?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Down the hall the baskets start back. My arms<br>fit you like a sleeve, they hold<br>catkins of your willows, the wild bee farms<br>of your nerves, each muscle and fold<br>of your first days. Your old man's face disarms<br>the nurses. But the doctors return to scold<br>me. I speak. It is you my silence harms.<br>I should have known; I should have told<br>them something to write down. My voice alarms<br>my throat. 'Name of father-none.' I hold<br>you and name you bastard in my arms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now that's that. There is nothing more<br>that I can say or lose.<br>Others have traded life before<br>and could not speak. I tighten to refuse<br>your owling eyes, my fragile visitor.<br>I touch your cheeks, like flowers. You bruise<br>against me. We unlearn. I am a shore<br>rocking off you. You break from me. I choose<br>your only way, my small inheritor<br>and hand you off, trembling the selves we lose.<br>Go child, who is my sin and nothing more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Sexton">Anne Sexton</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345515" data-title="Unknown Girl In A Maternity Ward de Anne Sexton" data-description="Child, the current of your breath is six days long.
You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed;
lie, fisted like a snail, so small and strong
at my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed
with love. At first hunger is not wrong.
The nurses nod th..."></div>
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