WEEK 10: KUMQUAT

It’s a lot harder, to squeezeyour pointer finger enoughto make a vial fullof your own blood,than you might think.So much gets wasted.The kitchen counter,a crime scene. Your printseverywhere. No one elseto blame. But youwere willing to bleed enoughfor Y to be detectable.SneakPeek, just a clickaway, delivered to your homewithin a week and marked“No Male Contact Allowed.”Alone, with the winter suntoo strong through the window,with not enough waterin your veins for viscosity,so you had to do ittwice, guilt growingeach finger-prick draw,even if your self-inflictedbleeding, repeated, didn’t startthe Sawmill fire, didn’t swallow45,000 acres of lifein southern Arizonaafter a blue-smoke gunshotproclaimed the unborn“boy,” proclaimed “him”gender before name,before body. You’ll always feelsomething is missingunless you have a girl,your husband saidbecause you and your motherare X’s of the samechromosomal pairand you need to proveyou can…