Pistil and stamen, words buzzing around
the semi-circle of sweaty legs, our elbows digging
into our knees, our heads opened to displays
of folded, delicate images drawn in diagram. A flower
is able to reproduce with itself, or wait for a bug to float
on the tongue of the wind and visit the bell of its face.
Ovary, sperm, zygote, embryo, its anatomy sharing
our names, we sat with bloomed attention as our teacher
explained the cycle of reproduction, each phrase
pricking our ears, foreheads scrunched with the dazzle
and blood-rush of hushed curiosity. In the next week
we’d learn about our own cycles, divide by sex and blush
at our reveal to the other, but when the lesson finished
we unfolded on the floor, imagining what it would be like
to open with the sun, transform light into food,
lap the rain with our faces, be seen for the first time.
John Moessner received his MFA from the University of Missouri-Kansas City in 2018 and currently serves on the Board of Directors for The Writers Place. His poems have appeared or will appear in The American Journal of Poetry, The Chattahoochee Review, New Letters, Poet Lore, and River Styx.
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