Laurels Literary Magazine Fall 2015 | Page 15

Embryo Patrick Miller I held your face between my hands. Nostrils and lids formed themselves before me. I then saw your bones shrink back, recede into your mother’s pool. beneath a canopy of skin. clutching yourself in solitude behind a warm wall. supermarket aisles, past green lights beneath layers of blankets and household things until your mother surrendered, and savor your bite. I press my lips against your cheek, feeling a mutual structure form between our heads. Gripping, pulling, leading bodies. 3