Black Star

Serie Barford

when searching for certainty I suspend
a gold wedding ring from a long thread
above the bellies of pregnant women

if it swings side to side it's a boy
if it swings in a circle it's a girl

but when I saw my aunty's flesh
bearing bruises like violet petals

I wished truth resided in a gourd
plugged with an immovable stopper

and not the dialysis shunt
surgically buried in her arm
like a poorly kept secret

one bruise stood alone
a livid black star

then disappeared from view

swallowed beneath the fold
of a billowy blue sleeve