By Emily Paige Wilson
We Fight About Having Children
Because my blood might calcify like stone,
clots of rose gypsum blocking circulation.
Because if my body must cause me pain,
cysts bursting forth on my Bartholin gland,
then I should at least be able to control
some of the delicious stretch and burn.
Because when I killed that spider, her
three egg sacks spun into a corner on our
porch, I knew some part of you would
never forgive me. I knew I didn’t want
forgiveness. Because I need to teach
a fresh mouth how to say moon and not fear
those strange sounds that sound so much
like want.
Emily Paige Wilson is an English adjunct instructor at Craven Community College. She received her MFA from UNCW, where she served as the Kert Green fellow and editor of The Coast Line. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Adroit Journal, Hayden’s Ferry Review, PANK, and The Raleigh Review, among others. In addition to a Brauer fellowship, she has received the 2012 Emma Howell Memorial Poetry Prize and has placed in contests held by NC State and The Indiana Review. She rules her life like a fine skylark and is working on her crow pose. You can follow her on Twitter at @Emmy_Golighty.
