“You’re so lucky”, they crow and caw

The black cat of infertility flashes by.

“All that space, just for the two of you”

The tall ladder standing open under the half-hung mobile.

The mobile no one will ever lay asleep beneath

“and your body, you’ll always have your body”

They don’t see the walls lined with broken mirrors

The countless nights, tears like a monsoon

Pounds of salt spilt in vane on the floor

Bad luck truly comes in threes.