Sophie Bebeau
—
fourth trimester
he’s not in there anymore
so the body weeps and leaks
like wrung cloth, spills a sap
so sweet it rots in the folds
of his neck and mine
until I can’t stand
the smell of us.
once we were
a two-necked spectacle, uneven
in our sharing, still he takes
all of my water, I am full
the earth is full
of red metal
the moon
is full of light
the balling up of any someone into meat
is a lifelong baffle
the body pays for the enormity
of what it's done in afterpains
the room clenches to save the house,
the blood is the thing that is keeping you whole
Sophie Bebeau is a poet from the small-town city of Green Bay, Wisconsin. Her poems have appeared in Your Impossible Voice and Spoonies Magazine. Her work has been nominated for the 2024 Best of the Net award. She currently works as a freelance writer and designer. You can find her on Instagram at @sophiebebeau and on Twitter @magicspaceorb.
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