Firstborn
for Stella
I meet you in a doorway and invite you inside me
to dance in every room I have wept in.
Rooms the shape and texture of my mother’s womb,
a galaxy, a gloom. We feel around together
with our feet until I stumble on a key and crack open
my rib cage revealing a new heart and I call to you:
crawl in, my love. Make a home among my organs—
let them feed you. And my tissues— wipe your eyes with them.
I move with you inside, promise to hold you loosely
as the ocean holds a tide and release you
to the shoreline where there are no doors
so instead we must open each other
over and over again like a gift.
Whitney Egstad
Whitney Egstad is a poet, essayist, and educator in the Denver area. Her work has appeared in various publications including The Rumpus, Bellingham Review, Barnstorm Literary Journal, and Cheat River Review. In 2014, she received her MFA from the University of South Florida, where she taught creative writing and composition courses. As a volunteer, she has served as a trauma-informed writing mentor in a treatment center. She is currently a PhD student at University of Denver, where she is researching healing centered engagement.
