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Title: "Tales of the Un held its a poignant exploration of grief and loss, particularly the pain of miscarriage. Image from: @Lifeart (Hiwotamariam Kidane)
He whispers through my ear, a wisp of sorrow,
As I cry over the heart that mourns, so profoundly.
His rips caress the gut, soft dots of grief,
Yet I recall jigging......
But where's the joy in laughter’s bright embrace?
Today I stand in the shadows, failed in this room.
I pray to the heavens, to carry
The pain of Abraham and Sarah's dreams, twisting like a bit.
The pain touches my tears,
But whispered fictions that play in a haunting trace.
In the earlier days of love and hate I sob through the spot on my puffy belly,
As I'm hoping against hope for my daughter's melody.
Yet he cries not for my grief but for his loss—
Loss of Fatherhood that caused ash under love's heavy cross.
Anger brews under the skin’s weak bloom,
As life twists itself into a worming cloud.
He boosts me tenderly within an egg so small,
While feeling each emotion,
As it is like shadows that fall.
Through accidents vast, via unkind fate’s trap,
I pay for comfort covered in torturous care.
Picking me again as tales grow and fall, I no longer miscarried; I stand free from it all.
My daughter crossed my womb after six months of wish— Lovely dreams shifted to echoes drowned by grief's switch.
Yet here I am stitched together with lamp and with dusk,
Bearing spots like a tapestry woven from a spark.
Tina Belay W.
September 2,2024