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Pantoum Post Two C-sections and a Stillbirth 

Karen Sherk Chio | Poetry

Bladder to uterus to bowel, soft and cinched– 
Doc says, nothing to undo that your body won’t redo. 
Womb a knot in the cradle of my pelvis, 
scars stitch and tie and tie again. 

Doc says, when it’s undone, your body will redo  
all the places opened like a mouth,  
scars stitch and tie and tie again. 
How many fingers does mercy have? 

All the places opened like a mouth, 
my body patched and fastened.  
How many toes does mercy have? 
Teeth clenched, lips pursed, jaw set,  
 
my body patched and fastened.  
I, too, am practicing disproportionate reactions.  
Teeth clenched, lips pursed, jaw set, 
I take the wide O of hope and squash it to gloom.  
 
I, too, am practicing disproportionate reactions.  
I cried for small hands, a zinging latch.  
I took the wide O of hope and squashed it to gloom,  
mouthing an if only and an oh so close
 
I cried for small hands, a zinging latch.  
Doc says it doesn’t matter, the tugs, the pulls,  
mouthing a why and a my oh my
How many mercies have fingers? 

Doc says it doesn’t matter,  
my insides have knit themselves together. 
How many mercies have toes?  
My womb knots in the cradle of my pelvis.