A Girls' Florilegium of Necessary Numbers

Zero is the absolute,
the egg inside -
fertile, but unfertilized,
and waiting.

One is the creep of light.
The begetter of two.
The center of periphery.
God in isolation.

Two is a pairing -
a static pull.
Sun and moon.
Prophet and witness.

Three begins,
middles, and ends.
Clings to the body,
a skinside alchemy.

Four holds the world,
perfects the square,
and rivers milk
from ritual.

Five is first counting,
the first wild reach.
The first prayer.
The blooming.

Six is the swallowing
of three and three.
Long days of creation.
Stretched luck.

Seven brings you six
beautiful sisters,
six cows and a bull,
and 80 octaves of song.

Eight is the wind,
the beatitudes;
the plenty promised
after a fast.

Nine calls the muses
dressed in fire;
the purest poetry
dancing.

Ten is the tithe
owed to your order -
Ten Commandments,
Ten Thousand Things.

Eleven is the generous
gift of beauty -
neither male, nor female -
better.

And twelve is the torment
of grim resignation -
the return to chaos
in the hours of night.

Kelli Simpson is a mother and poet living in Norman, Oklahoma. Her poems have appeared in numerous publications including Snakeskin, Eunoia Review, Third Wednesday, and Picaroon Poetry.