HOW TO MAKE A BABY
You need two clasping strands of DNA
to come together - recently unzipped
and separated from their selfish bonds,
with empty arms, finding opposing fronds
by chemicals' attraction, paired and clipped,
so smoothly joined, it takes the breath away.
You do not need a code-book for the act:
love winds its double spiral into life
as bodies double-helix into love,
she, you, two turning, grip below, above,
latch and re-form, but only when the knife
has cut apart the seals of self, unpacked
your messages, and hers. What have you done?
You've freed your bases, half of you, begun
an unknown sequence that will run and run,
a race that's off before the starter's gun
in which you're lapped and never know who won.
Now go and back that ball of cells, your son.
