Language

Romanian begins in the womb
with a row of interruptions.
The young mother loves chemistry,
lab fumes feeding her words.
A grandmother puts a ban
on potions and pear-shaped flasks,
confines the young mother
to silence spells. Babies are gold,
God says yes to caring vessels only.
Womb tightens. Days drizzle softly
the size of wet dogs, the thinning
presence of Slavic and Latin streaks
feathering the flesh. A harness on
the glyphs. Pieces of her move
forward, a breast bone blooming
in the mouth, air smeared with
colostrum. Under sheets of dreams,
mother and child whisper together,
one body thrumming with gusto,
pretty grudges draping the world.

Clara Burghelea is a Romanian-born poet with an MFA in Poetry from Adelphi University. Recipient of the Robert Muroff Poetry Award, her poems and translations appeared in Ambit, HeadStuff, Waxwing, The Cortland Review and elsewhere. Her collection The Flavor of The Other is scheduled for publication in 2020 with Dos Madres Press. She is the current Poetry Editor of The Blue Nib.