Every twenty eight days
right brain
blooms into a succulent peach.
Neurons sift words,
roll them into Pinwheel poems,
dipped in Serotonin.
Bionic poet seeks
limelight for monthly audience.
From afar she hears
amniotic fluid
swish
as babies turn;
scent of daffodils
push through winter bulbs;
feels the earth tilt
towards morning.