......
I miss you,
I know we’re both cold
and warm on the inside.
I’m rereading
the letters stamped inmate
every night.
our daughter,
she’s moving inside me at
all hours.
I have dreams of putting a little white hat on her head,
I have dreams of hearing her first laugh & her first breath.
The first time I felt her kick,
I cried a pool of tears in my bed
thinking of how you should be here with me smiling,
but your locked away instead,
I miss your arms around me.
There is a place in them where worry doesn’t fit,
or insecurity, or any form of it.
I miss your fingers touching my back when we sleep
and the deep in your eyes
when we kiss.
The most beautiful part of our lives in suppose to be this,
instead we are grieving it
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