How strong the woman, how frail the man

He chanced upon her dressing
She had got so far as
tights and knicker elastic allowed
Naught else

As is her way
A private conference
With the unborn babe in her belly
Telling him to
Get his act together
And show up or fuck off

She turns about face
‘Oh it’s you’
He beams
Tells her just how wonderful she looks
‘No I don’t, I look ridiculous’
She disagrees
For once she was wrong

At the birth
She spat profanities
As if possessed

It seemed like an age yet
She got there in the end

Helpless and hopeless
He takes of his leave
For just a minute or two
Glorious nicotine and salty tears
In the concrete jungle outside
Under a stoned moon

Composure partially restored
He returns

The child at her breast now
He kisses them both
Her first

All her…