where else?

A Daintree of canopies caress her skin,
the danger of beauty dense within.
Sweet air lingers,
with the salty taste of tribulation.
A tranquil lagoon,
lies still with the strength of myriad maternal monsoons.
Watched wisely by the canopy,
palm fronds protecting her painful privacy.
Beneath the blue hole she gives birth,
a deprived placenta plateaus in a waterfall of grief.
She hauls her body back to the banks,
and sits heavier without him.