Blessed

Rebekah cursed, between drawn knees,
the size of her first-born, but God
she loved the little one, who slipped
out next, his hand held tight to brother’s
heel. She always nursed the youngest
first, for the elder sucked her dry.
Her favor was cloaked until the twins
were men—when she unveiled revenge
against the brute who wrecked her womb.
She helped the second become the first,
with no remorse for her deceit;
she knew, God loved the little one.