14 Weeks by Judith Bishop When you began, it was whether or not, a daily rhythm in my heart, but now the burgeoning kicks in and spins your opening phrases out into the weather of these waters, where the skeins of inner sun are a sunset through the skin and dancing fronds resemble coral round the bubble of your sac and your hands try to capture nubs that stray into their grasp - taking, testing, small philosopher, materialist of mine, with a focus never known once in possession of a mind.