To My Future Child, Concerning Your State of Birth

—after Rilke

In this place, the lawmakers keep us in sight until
xxxxxxwe leave each other.xxxxThe undivided note

curled in your chest, the subtle beating
xxxxxxof your fists, your infinitexxxxunawareness, how

you grow beyond these men, sounds their bones.
xxxxxxThey can’t sleepxxxxfor the thought of you.

And yet our apartment, matchbox-small
xxxxxx& plumbed with lead,xxxxremains a space other

than theirs. I fashion a slim mobile
xxxxxxof stars for your approval,xxxxprepare your clean

blue bassinet. Life slippery with vernix, one
xxxxxxdelicately furred,xxxxthere is no part

of my bodyxxxxthat does not see you.