To dissect a dumpling

— content warning: miscarriage 

firstly, it comes floating in an
amniotic soup
you’ve heard the broth
is made of blood, but
you’re too afraid to ask

—ladle it out carefully, they tell you
Your precious progeny, or it will break
though the truth is it’s you that is
falling
apart

it glistens on the plate, naked and wet
Pale, and pocked with finger marks
Scrape off the caul with the tip of
your knife
Incise the skin gently,
avoiding the center

it was meant to be easy
you’re young, and he’s healthy
you never wanted anything like
you want this

you can taste it

Nobody talks about the
dumplings you wasted
the ones that were misshapen
that leaked out in the bath

when you dissect a dumpling
you’ll find flesh inside,
made from unspoken cells of
all your dead daughters

and it will hurt your teeth
and you’ll bleed in the toilet
but next month you’ll roll over
and you will
do it
again.