When he puts his small hand on my rounded belly
I wonder if he can feel my heart pounding
along with the baby’s kicks
feel the grief as wide as my outstretched arms
feel the ache as they expand, day by day,
like my hips
like the soles of my feet
to the day when they will have stretched wide
enough to encircle two babies.
Bones groan against gravity
tendons close to snapping
in their march toward elasticity
toward more giving, more love,
at what expense, my grief nudges in,
who will pay this bill?
I throw my foot in the door,
fling my body in front of my firstborn’s.
Spare him this pain, this crushing weight,
give it to me.
I have danced in grief before
I have the map
I can find my way through
I know how to live life alongside it
how to surrender and trust
how to taste the sweetness
n my swirled cone
chocolate and vanilla
one perfect lick
at their confluence
drips running down my fingers
sticky
present
melted down into something new