there was nothing –
one night you were assuredly with me
and the next morning, gone…
unexpected and torrential
in its suddenness and cruelty.
i fumble through empty air,
visiting dark places
to etch you into my skin,
and i watch in horror
as the last bits of you drip from below,
sweet smelling remnants of your lifelines
that utterly failed.
the fullness in my chest has finally begun to evaporate,
a sure sign my body’s dream of you
is really giving up.
this cursed body of mine, a walking grave,
a shallow coffin,
now scarred by an indescribable kind of maternal violence
that i shudder to absorb.
as i bleed the rest of your precious being
into my underwear,
i perch on the toilet in stillness,
trying to will the process to slow down,
to retain a tiny pieceof what took 32 weeks to grow
and a millisecond to fall in love with.
instead, you keep slowly draining away
and i do, too with my only recourse to moan on the bathroom floor
clutching your pink baby blanket,
begging please don’t leave me, sweet girl,
oh my baby girl, please please don’t leave me