Montreal Poetry Magazine –

"womb" by Alana Dunlop


Title image shows a time-lapse photo of a city street at night, with bright lights streaking as if in motion.

Home | Submissions | Published | About

Published September 1, 2021


by Alana Dunlop
(Montreal, Quebec, Canada)

i know you as the
like hands slipping on silk
like the face smiling up from my thighs.
the right to bare arms;
shallow water.
when we touch trains crash
in freak accidents
everyone takes the day off work.
you are calm spreading
through my every bone,
relaxing leukocytes.
we equate antimatter to oranges,
the start of the universe an
irrelevant piece of time.
the end,
the same,
matter contracting to nothing.
we contract.
wombs contract
(they do, right?)
and someone worries
about blood loss,
messages just scratching the surface,
the don't-wreck-the-womb lover
that just
expelled a child instead of
and now you're growing up
not knowing how to touch this thing.

i know you as the
and me,
i suppose the
don't-wreck-my-womb lover;
not infertile
but unwilling
and serene.

Alana Dunlop is a McGill University student and a self-proclaimed Montrealer (raised in Ontario). Her work has appeared in Open Book Magazine and PACE Magazine. She has written enough poetry to completely fill a studio apartment.

Previously published in Montreal Poetry Magazine:
"leaving you" by Alana Dunlop

Home | Submissions | Published | About

Montreal Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
- This website and all contents ©Kirk Ramdath and specified artists.