jesus

fourteen feet in front of me
one pale hand thumbs her black shoulder bag
while she uses the other to pat  50 pounds of belly
she swishes her head left and right
to foist dark hair from her face.

pregnant in orange fleece
i see her walk in short steps
a controlled warbling fall
from grace to graceless
to gates of motherhood

she is sweating and veins neatly
circle her eyes in a red spider web
she looks at me, we do not smile
i am the enemy. i am breathing.

her ass drags behind her
three sizes bigger than
the one she still dreams about
when she spirals down
into black infinity

she is sweating and the hair
on her neck is standing up
as i look at her, i do not smile
she is the prayer tonight at bedtime.