Her belly is effervescent—
explosive with life bursting forth,
the buttons on her blouse hanging on
by straining threads.

Dewy green fields run on for miles in her womb;
blood-roses bloom from veins, cords,
saltwater, and steam with life.
Passion breathes hotly into the greenhouse and it grows—
it grows.

She’s a furnace. Snow melts at her feet,
the buried daisies stir,
stand close to her and feel the heat radiating
from the fire of her goddess-stomach.

Her swollen feet blossom from an old earth.
They sing to her, the stones,
to the serpents twining,
to the moon-rabbits kicking in the meadows,
and she glows.

She cruises by, a juggernaut,
parting the seas
her hips sway to the ghost of hymns
sung on the banks of the Euphrates.

She carries a dynasty with her;
her skin strains over a family—
three hearts, six kidneys.
Spring draws near, and the first cries with it.
Grace Lee
Year 13
Auckland International College