Falls of the Hinterlands sea water flowing from the middle of my thighs

Second born.

A rank dictated by chance perhaps, or by the positioning of her sister, still reluctant to leave the womb. Their embrace was severed by contractions. Nose-to-nose, they shared their final moments together within their mother; a goodbye kiss that lingered almost too long. 

Nevertheless, as her world shifted and clenched, whatever awareness she had drove her to become restless. Instinct forced her to crave something she’d not yet tasted, and when she did open her mewling lips to taste the air for the first time it felt like it  burned. But after being squeezed, cramped and choked, the rush of cool air quickly brought her to life. Puff after puff her little body worked to sip and slurp the air, until she became full of life.

Her thirst for air couldn’t be contented, but it soon had to contend with another need. She suckled on the air and felt it wasn’t substantial enough. Her growing hunger summoned her vocal chords to resonate, and without even being able to hear her own cries she began to demand sustenance, wailing like a siren for her needs to be fulfilled.