PHANTOM CHILD

 

We meet in tiny increments of joy-

these rare, profoundly vivid snapshots

of the life we hope to share.

 

The pain of parting is less sharp

than the agony of being alone. It is a fair

price to pay, bearing so many goodbyes.

 

Grief is a phantom child, wailing in the

night-there, lying between us.

sleep is impossible. Now we dare

 

not speak, lest we break this triangular

embrace. We are so close in the interim where we