Elegy for the Aborted Feti That Could Have Been

Our seeds of immortality swim here,
Between us now, although their ocean dries
On my back, homogenous and clear,
Invaluable but minuscule in size.
The hair right there should work as evidence
This spot is not suited to incubate.
A fallow field should take more precedence
Than an arboretum in this state.
I wasn't planning on a harvest of
The subtle hair on my posterior,
But you have got me literally stuck:
My epidermis to the comforter.
I have learned a lesson I will keep:
Be careful where you shoot if you want sleep.