The Last Liberation - I Echo

after Tryphena Yeboah

today i reached my third trimester and still my water is

unbroken. three trimesters and i have not been dipped

inside a low-temperature sauna

where friction is nonexistent and

the sweet agony of flesh throb-

bing in flesh is as memory wash

-ed from an infant's eyes by age.

oh my watch is ended and i must

see this slimy cream satisfaction.

so i carry myself into a labor ward and kick the midwives

out. i will deliver myself today. i fold my legs like a curtain

and put the pictures on replay

from every scene in a concept

-tion ward. bare vagina facing

the dick-tor. waiting for thrust.

mouthful of flesh and contract

-ion is an insatiable hunger wait

-ing for a rupture that satiates.

dampness grows hauling a furnace-like rockness that

ruptures the first gate with painful sweetness and gives

way to all comings. push push

push push. breathe in. thunder.

i gasp with a hush till hushing is

blasphemy when divinity comes.

now i'm screaming 'cause we're

almost there. oh my god! we are

almost there. almost. almost. all

-most. until a last inverted susurration comes like rain-

drops spilling spilling till it's finally here. is it a boy/girl?

---

I ECHO is a Ghanaian-Nigerian journeyman writer writing to save his life. Previously published under the name "Chris Baah," some of his works have been published or are forthcoming in African Writers Magazine, Kalahari Review, New Note Poetry, among others. He tweets on @AyeEcho