Harsh winter and this germ is growing,
Struggling for a life I will deny.
The weather, it seems, should stop this growth before my body will reject it.
An ailment that will last longer than winter and snows,
It will last longer than fertile spring, sunshine, ocean surf,
Longer than the youth left in my cold bones.
If it grows until term it will mean my end,
So, I will terminate it before it makes my body stretch and swell.
An hour under and oh, little germ, you are destroyed!
An hour under and my spring set womb will be covered in the same snowy blizzards as my winter set heart.
An Artic winter where nothing will be able to survive and grow. |
Submission Name: Oh harsh fertility!
