Born To It__________________________________a poem is conceived in privatemuch like a childthe wild, Holy consummation, all consumingborn of lovebut bearing so much pain and suffering,muffled cries, truths and lies,sometimes the difference is hard to find.I was born with bated breath,fresh and clean,once they wiped off the blood and amniotic fluidand cut the cordscissors like a swordsevering the most sacred connectionthat I will ever know.I was born to itand there is no place quite like home.