I memorized every square inch of the tiny piece of your life that you loaned me.
It was mine.
To hold, admire, bask in the beauty.
You asked for it back and I resisted.
Begging you, gently, to allow me to keep it.
You grabbed it, ran with it, before I could convince you to turn around.
Cut my palms, right along the seams, when you ripped it out of my warm hands.
My wounds; Cherry red and burning. More than you would think.
Every touch of another life made the wounds reopen.
Nights without your tiny life, or any other, healed what you left me with.
But, glancing down at those baby pink ridges that are forever,
makes my elephant heart jump.