When I was pregnant with you
all that progesterone made me radiate heat
like a boiled
steaming cob of corn.
I was so hot and angry I just sat in bed
visualizing volcanic eruption
compiling a mental list of anyone who
ever wronged me.
But somewhere in this fever dream
you appeared one night by a cool lake
we stood
eyes locked and laughing.
Just cracking up
as if this latest incarnation of yours
was our big idea
our brilliant inside joke.