There’s a half sheet of blank paper crumbled
in your father’s pocket. I got a pen in my purse
somewhere. That’s if I haven’t lost it.
April came. Two lines revealed you were mine.
Your father would twirl me in the kitchen.
As the eggs fried we discussed
whether you would be a girl
or a boy.
I felt complete. I was whole with you inside of me.
One afternoon at the prick of a needle
a fractured dream landed heavy on sand.
hCG 70,000
hCG 13,352
a week passed
hCG 9,000
and another
hCG…0
My body is a hormonal tidal wave in flux.
Aldehyde, I’m trying to breach the barriers
of a shore where we’re not allowed to touch
to say good-bye.
I know I am not alone in this.
I look at the moon teary eyed.
In the freckles of the Cosmos
there is a communal hymn
ringing for those of us
who have miscarried.