I went to bed with Isis purring,
kneading, nesting perfect
between my legs.
Her daughter's paw placed on my lips,
chest to chest,
nose to nose,
whiskers unworried,
we welcomed sleep.
I dreamed my body had the pregnancy
like I once dreamed my body had a penis.
And men, strangers,
touched my swollen abdomen,
like they were entitled
to monitor movements
inside my body;
they felt for kicks,
placing their cold
palms to my navel.
And in dream think I thought:
Why didn't they monitor my ovulation;
feel that egg kicking at its ovary?
Where will they be when
my loins are ripped and
my breasts are leaking?
Do they babysit for cheap
(how about for nothing)?
Or, at the very least,
can these useless fools
type manuscripts while
I change diapers?
The clock's alarm woke me
in time to feel
relieved, refreshed
the blessed blood of Menses
staining my sheets.