A is for blood’s persistent Arrival, for all the waysI’ll never know you. B is for Barren with the dampweight of a ghost against my chest. Challenged onlyto invent the smell of her spit up, the Dance of herlaughter over flipped pancakes with Eyes to matchthe richness of mine so we finally Forget my father’sand find rest in the familiar, though Grief sits easyin spaces never filled. How I was twentywhen mom was my age, and now I give myselfover to friends and travel Just long enoughto truly Know what I’ve missed: Love in its clearest form.Maybe we’ll adopt a child: No, maybe another dog. Only,this Pain is better eased by solving tiny mysteries: Questionsconcerning bees and their sky and why Red clouds glowonly when light Scatters meaning this all matters, meaningI’m soon Two times more likely to develop Uterine cancerand Vexed by a bank account barely treading Water. Still,I imagine your first steps sinking into the soft oceanand ache inside a body to be doubled onlyin X-rays taken of a brittle old womanYelling to no one at the Zoo look how the babyswings close to its mommy!