Primitive

Four months in, you lay your
palm on your belly, and feel a tiny
star swimming inside. You smile
and sing, they said she can hear
you. You shop for tiny dresses
and summer overalls. You look
in the mirror to measure how big
she's making you look.

You wake up in the morning
and wait for her first kick.
You pin her ultrasounds on your
bedroom wall, imagine her cooing
and gurgling, you can already
see her crawling.

She's the only part of you
that you learnt to love.

In months, you'll
feel your soul splitting in half,
half in you,
half in her little body,
hearts will beat
in sync, fingers will stretch
to touch your face and pull
your hair. There will
always be so many moments
pressed into one.