VA: In your collection, ‘I Will not Bear You Sons’, you’ve written about almost all forms......

I pulled the desert over my eyesand sank deep into the sandblood of tulips ran overmaking......

Full moon disappearsbehind the hilltwinkling starsfall as autumn leavesfrom an old chinarby the river they had......

When I was born, I took one quick look at you and thought, here we go......

silent waters —holding the achebeneath blood moon —fury of high tidesin his eyes torn apartpiece by......

I had a black skin once,but I took myself to the edges of the cliffsand peeled......

I let them be, as remindersof your futility, how you often hurlthings at the sharp angles......

It had seemed like any other Saturday when she had woken up. She had thrown open......

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night staggering like an old woman...

At thirty-two, I am beginning to learnthat my story is not my own,my body a birthing......