A TRANSPOSITION IN MARCH Nolyn Gilstrap A package masked in chaos and despair. The time that left me wanting everything I did not have and nothing that I did. Brain dead. Chest heavy. Limbs stiff. Future gone, gone, gone. Encompass me in layers of calluses, Waking up to show the universe that: I am strong. I am steady. I am brave. I am crying on the floor in the shower, Heat pouring down my cheeks, choking on steam deep within my lungs. I felt you grow inside my womb. The first movements building until I could no longer Feel comfortable in my own skin. I named you “Peace”: As a hope. As a foreshadowing. As a desperate prayer. As a declaration of the feeling of your being inside of me, Your entrance into our atmosphere, Your tiny body on my bare chest. “Peace, peace!” I begged. Peace was given to me, And I am transposed.
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