How We Celebrated Six Months
1. Robert’s mom went out of town for one night.
2. I lied to my mom and said I was spending the night at Stephanie’s house.
3. Robert didn’t even have to lie to his dad.
4. I posed for photos for Robert in my lingerie.
5. He left the photos on his dresser.
6. His mom had a talk with us.
(She probably still thinks we had sex.)
Making Space
The horizon is full of colors I can’t describe
I’m looking into a future with hopes I shouldn’t pile on you
Dare me to tell you how long I’ve dreamed of you
We’re a love story written in Sanskrit and Aramaic
Making space, making space, making space
You won’t be conceived in my womb
It will remain empty while I make space for you
You were/are/will be conceived in another’s womb
She loved/loves/will love you so much, she will pick me
Making space, making space, making space
I don’t know you yet, but I yearn for you to love me
Not in my body, but in my heart and soul I’m making space
I’ve ignored those who tell me I shouldn’t love you
Still ignoring my fear you’ll one day shout, “You’re not my real mom!”
Making space, making space, making space
Just as my mother made space for me
CLS Ferguson, PhD, speaks, signs, acts, publishes, sings, performs, writes, paints, teaches and rarely relaxes. She and her husband, Rich, are raising their daughter, Evelyn, and their Bernese Mountain Border Collie Mutt, Sadie, in Alhambra, California.
Meet CLS Ferguson at Poetry Postcards today, 11-3, at Beyond Baroque with AFLW’s poetry editor Arminé Iknadossian and contributors, Rich Ferguson and Brian Sonia-Wallace, among other co-facilitators at this special resistance event. For more details and to RSVP, click here.
Photo: “When Children Call the Night Sky to Their Feet” by Rich Ferguson