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The Stillness of the Days Before

by Holly Day


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.