The Mornings Are

At 9 weeks and 5 days

How can I tell you, that you are already

a part of my life,
a part of
the way I love,
and what I know?

The mornings are heaving
and expulsion,
algae-thick-green
all over the sink,
toilet, garbage.
(Body, can we
keep refusing, keep
rejecting what
we know?)

Faucet water against
my face, against
the way my body
loves you in
the morning time.
Faucet water against
the urge to expel
yet again, when
there is nothing
but a bruised stomach.

(Body, can we
keep refusing, keep
rejecting what
we know?)

But the mornings are
what we pass
together, what we know
will pass in time,
and then we can
replace what we have
rejected with cravings, eaten
with the pride of a swollen belly.

I hold you, the curve
of a full placenta against
my arm, my mind.
You are already
a part of my life,
a part of
the way I love,
and what I know.