Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010

Labour of Love

by Hannah Persaud

My blood my tattered privacy on the floor, an eruption
Of me. Bursting through my torn body which tearlessly wept
Raped by the tools which saved us. You came
Reluctantly, silently
They wrenched you from my womb my love, our labour
Was not tender nor was it sweet.
Full of fluttering pleasures Our love making so sweet
A crescendo of touch, the finale an eruption
This ambition no chore no work no labour
Our bodies swept with sleep, they wept
Our joys and silently
You came.
41 weeks of building, before you came
to me, my sweet
9 months of hoping you would last, silently
That my body would survive this eruption
Of you. So many times I thought you’d gone I wept
This heart, my labour
Our Labour
But step by tiny step your body grew mine, and you became
A bigger part of me then I had thought, my newfound body wept
It’s secrets caused by you, this sweet-
ness from every pore,  this eruption
and expansion of me of I of us that came so silently.
All the while we talked, our dreams full of you, so silently
You changed our world to one we did not know, our labour
To prepare for you our only goal, to welcome your eruption
Into us and ours and make what we had yours, you came
Into the best that we could give, my sweet
Oh how they wept
In my ferocious sleep at night, they wept
We mourned the loss of you a thousand times, but silently
My sweet
Whilst my body lay motionless but for your labour
To get strong before you came
Into our world, Your welcomed interruption
I wept when my body split my love, broke silently
The eruption of our silence, came
Ended our labour so we could finally meet, my sweet.

Added: 28.04.2010