Counting to ten

[Wjames]

I placed a moment out of reach,
too young to explain the details
embroidered on its
white cotton sleeve. I think cotton implies white, but of course a cotton shirt could be any colour, I guess.
Those damn camcorder tapes,
noisily focusing on
early modern medicine. The camcorder tapes make me think of childhood videos. A video of child birth? (modern medicine, shapes inside balloons, pop etc)

I trusted it to mother
she carried it behind closed eyes,
curved reflections pushing
shapes from inside balloons.
Pop 
and the light that enters opened eyes
scatters into saucers,
settling like fish returning
to the deepest parts of the pool.
We lay there casting quiet "casting quiet" seems needlessly wordy, I would just say quiet.
as the battle tent raged above us. I really like this stanza, wonderful. 

I touched translucent fingernails
so small, so imperfectly real.
Inhaled your sweet and perfect pale
that deepened scent of skin revealed. I like some aspects of this sentence, but it doesn't seem to work as a whole to me.
My breath spread incantations
that promised you our warmth. 
The kiss I forged on your forehead
would only let in dreams, tell stories
of the worlds we’d weave and all
the songs they’ll come to sing. "all the songs they'll come to sing" I think that's a little bit of a weak ending - I've heard it before.

Interesting poem, very fun to read but tough to really grasp completely (for me). 

I read it as a sort of a childbirth metaphor about mother/child relationships.