Spoken words are not our native tongue
but rather, something deep set in the eyes,
heart-pressured pulses behind dimmed sight,
so infinitesimal and delicate to be audible
when only the swirl of amniotic fluid competed
for our attention, muffled movements just past
our shared cave of skin and muscle and heartbeat,
drifting in awe, unable to mutter what is known
before breathing. What words can relate our
transfixed view of the womb’s planetarium?
Larry Thacker serves as Associate Dean of Students at Lincoln Memorial University.