I held her until she had to leave,
Four-thirty early morning in March.
We curled up on a couch and sat and silence
Just like we used to.
Just like before.

I fell asleep on her belly a while;
Heard in my mind those telltale kick-kicks.
A few months or so, give or take, maybe more…
Could’ve been real.
Not anymore.

She was smiling as she stepped outside,
Climbed into one of those shitty-ass cabs.
Didn’t say much as I watched her go,
Didn’t admit that well of regret:
The cold cold damp in the pit of my stomach;
The little voice screaming for another chance.

I know it’s wrong. Don’t tell me it’s wrong.
This isn’t where we’re supposed to be.

Went back home and curled up in bed,
Wound tight ’round the only comfort I had:
Two commas lost in a sea of sheets,
Knowing not saying, listening to you breathe.

‘I fell asleep on her belly a while;
Heard in my mind those telltale kick-kicks.’
I choke. I sob.
You run through my hair.
All gone now. Won’t get it back.
Goodbye, Lillian Marie.

7 March 2007

© Charlie Pevensie


1 Comment

Filed under poetry

One response to “.tender.loving.care.

  1. Asbjorn

    I think this is very moving. My critique is simply that the coda at the end is unnecessary and weakens it a bit, the last six lines. And I would call it “tell tale kicks” because it works as a metaphor and the original title is rather prosy. Ending it on “listening to you breathe” even though the reader is clear she has left puts the reader in the emotional state the narrator is occupying. The final goodbye is implicit at that point. Tim

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