The doorknob wiggles as the door creaks open,
The sun barely peeking through the shades.
The littlest shadow emerges from the crack of light.
As the teeny tiniest feet
Pitter patter their way closer.
Blanket dragging behind.
She looks up from the floor,
With Bambi’s eyes, illuminated with tears
My arm unwinds from its position.
She takes this welcome and climbs
Up and up onto my chest
Mangling her body into the fetal position
Resting her head under my own.
A tear falls from my closed eye
Awaken by the wetness
I find myself clutching a firm pillow
And nothing else.
150 days.
150 days of unknown
150 days of anguish
Will she remember?
Has she forgot?
Is it too late?
It doesn’t matter.
I’ll wait
I’ll hope
I’ll pray
For her-
Her back in my heart.
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