A surrogate carries a fetus
Knowing at the end of the day
She will only have a paycheck and an empty place
In her love-torn heart

And she will be a Thai woman
Who will take solace in cooking Pad Thai
Look through the window of childrens shops
At all the toys and the wooden bassinets
And wonder, where is she now?

And that paycheck will burn like tinder
Yet memory will fold and unfold, like origami paper
And she will be trapped between a child’s warmth
And solitude’s lifelessness

She will slowly walk the Bangkok streets
Searching for a man, who could pump a balloon in her
What will only burst one day in happy tears
In a lingering gaze at what God-sent

And still she will wonder of her little daughter far away
At the little girl who will walk now and fall on her little behind
Who will crawl with her feet and palms and will say something silly as her first words
And cry for attention, for a lullaby and lap-time

She wonders, would the little girl remember the woman who first held her?
Who filled her tiny mouth with milk proteins?

And her past will suck her up like a black hole
An event horizon in every passing second

Surrogate for 9 months, slave of love ever after.


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