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my heart

my heart is his heart my breath is his breath

and it hurts because I’m still alive

my whole chest hurts

I press in hard with both hands to relieve the pressure

and I do what Elinor taught me to do for my stomach and take my baby heart and my baby lungs into my arms and rock them rock them

to comfort

safety

and sleep

from Steve — poems from a friend — Bill Eberle

Thomaston     February 25

© 2019, Bill Eberle