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#fatherhood #love #childbirth
Published: 2015-03-18 02:21:41 +0000 UTC; Views: 1321; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 0
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This precious lifeI hold in my two hands
Is too small to be real.
It must be a figment
Some tiny fragment
Of a joy that can never be.
Reality isn't so kind
As to allow something like
This
Shard of perfection
To exist.
A peal of pain,
Clear and undiluted,
Basemost reaction to
All that is new;
A minute fury
That refuses to be restrained.
How can anything be
So beautiful?
There is no weight,
Just a slight pressure.
My hands are warm
And wet
And tingling with
This new sensation.
A fear of myself.
What horrors could
I cause accidentally
To this, my small charge?
What horrors would
I unleash willingly
To prevent them?
I release
This priceless bundle
And the rage subsides
In a white satiation
I cannot provide.
The innocent gluttony,
The simplest satisfaction,
The guiltless, guileless joy
Of being warm, full, safe.
This precious pain
Piercing my cold heart
Is too hot to be real.
It must be a mistake
Some confused illusion
Of a peace that can never be.
Reality isn't so cruel
As to allow something like
This
Agony of love
To exist.