Q

very soon and suddenly, I’ll miss this.

I won’t remember the nights without sleep. I’ll miss the way you fit perfectly into the bracket of my arms, for just this brief period. I’ll miss how you are buoyed and lulled by the rise and fall of my chest.

I won’t remember the double shrieks, the knot in my throat as both of you cry yourselves red. I’ll miss how uncomplicated your needs are. Just a cuddle, a change, a burp, a breast. How I’m able to keep you safe and satiated.

I won’t remember the endless burping thwarted by squirms. I’ll miss the way your faces, the tiniest sunflowers, rise towards me like I’m your sun.

I won’t remember the long days that stretch and fold, defying linearity. I’ll miss it as the only time you boys are truly just mine (ours), before the world is yours.

Your little grunts and sighs and squeaks and growls. Tiny dinosaur sounds. Little tongues peeking out. Eyes the blue-gray swirl of a stormy evening, bright with lightning; gazing into them for hours everyday.

One day I’ll miss all of this.