In Human-Made Society
Eva Rún Snorradóttir illuminates lesbian parenthood and partnership in this poem from the 2018 Maístjarnan Award-winning collection Seeds that Impregnate the Darkness.
Two women sit on a little sofa in an office on the outskirts of the capital. Across from them, behind a desk, sits an elderly man in a white coat. A map showing the inner topography of the vagina is plastered on the wall behind him. They’d argued with the cab driver on the way. He’d been driving a cab for thirty years and thought it best to take the route along the coast, like he’d always done. We’re running late to make a baby, too late to be polite and deferential to a thirty-year career.