O mother!
I didn’t cry
coming into this world,
Came playing
in your womb!

Your breath
my cradle.
Womb—
crucible of life.

I nudged softly,
you felt me
under your bump—
Our
happy beginnings!

Where else does plurality
dwell so harmoniously?
Like distinct chromosomes
braided expertly,
exquisitely,
in mothers’ wombs!

Mandira Pattnaik writes in India. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Times of India, Eclectica Magazine, Lunate Fiction, Microfiction Monday, Fiftywordstories, Paragraph Planet, FewerThan500 and (Mac) ro (mic).