The knife in her chest was still in my hand when rage faded, vision cleared.
The roof's tiles felt cool against their backs as they gazed up at the stars.
She walks into the room holding a pregnancy test. No talking, just a tender embrace.
Your love DNA
Already seeped
Into my skin.
It’s the aftermath
That was hanging on.
“What do we do with the body now Jason?” I ask. What Body? He says.
"I wasn't programmed to love anything, but Im willing to learn for you."
"Whatever, Mom."
Years of waiting, red tape, and more waiting. When will my adopted child come home?
The compliments from a stranger brought her temporary comfort, yet her heart was still aching.
every night she saw him in her dreams,
every day was another day without him
It was all burning, collapsing.
"What do we do next?"she asked.
"I honestly don't know."
