Oxytocin cannot
stop
the thirst of saber- toothed tigers
or keep millennia of ice at bay.
Wild animals and our ancestors alike
knew very little about
keeping their young alive.
The milk still lets down.
Antelope run the minute they’re born.
they have no choice, as tigers
learn soon after.
Our heads too large to hold,
there is no running from influenza
or plague-infested fleas.
The endorphins still collapse.
There is a reason wombs overflowed
the kingdom stayed in heat,
the tribes grew.
The promise of outliving our children
is three generations old
at best.
The belly still softens.
So we keep a few drops of bathwater
and the fingernail clippings
as insurance we won’t forget.
If we ever come to know
the heartache familiar
to the women who came before.
The fear still consumes.
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