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I miss them the most when I'm alone
the very different ways they thrashed inside of me
at very different times in my life. My son
yawned and stretched and pushed so politely
while my daughter kicked and fought with me
every day, even then. I miss
knowing where they were
every single moment, miss knowing, in my heart
that they were okay no matter what anyone around me said,
knew they were safe. I miss them the most
when I'm falling asleep, miss the imprint
of tiny hands and feet beating against my ribs
so eager to escape, even then, my control.