top of page

Jane Ebihara


Two Moments


in the ladies’ room

            she lifts her shirt

caresses her belly

            swollen        tight        round

he kicks        rolls        presses

            against the wall of her abdomen

pulses toward her fingers

            splayed wide in warm embrace


soon he will know blue

            the touch of fingertips to lips

she will teach him

            soft        sky        mother       universe        goodbye

and he will leave his stories pressed

            into the palm of her outstretched hand

bottom of page