Resurrection, Mid-December

Mother gives birth to me a second time. Pulls me
out from her center, limp, upward, a bed expelling
its sheets. There’s an embrace, carefully tiled
like a floorboard, read open like a palm, the note
I left because I was supposed to. Mother will stretch
herself over me like new layers of skin, carve my stomach
like a biology project. Let the stems of dandelions sprout
from playground scabs. When it rains, I may imagine
the sound of her teeth falling out of place.

Amanda Silberling is an undergraduate student at the University of Pennsylvania. Her recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Crab Orchard Review, PANK Blog, The Louisville Review, and SOFTBLOW, among others. She is the Blog Editor for The Adroit Journal and writes for Rock On Philly.