A piece of fiction that is true. Everything was made in shades of green and blue. She stood and leaned against the wall or over a bed, hips circling. Hot blood dripped onto the cold floor, circles within circles. The head pressed deep. The nurse asked her to come onto the bed. She said I’m coming. Another nurse arrived and set up obstetric tools. The resident looked like a twelve year old, the husband said after. His wife’s lips part, wet hair revealed. No one but mother and child are ready. Panting mixes with primal sound. Do you still imagine giving birth is sexless? Smell the ocean here. A world is breaking. Breathe earth and iron. Stop now. Let yourself soften to this, wet and warm, burning open, rising up. And she slips free, a fish swimming in air, unaware that the elements are rearranging themselves. Hush. Who are you? Silence. Then the clang of metal on metal, breath on breath. And she penetrates.