Alphabet Soup Minuscule

J.C. Scheff

Tiny Heartbeats


My want is at a distance. 

And I can’t reach it right now.
Despite my calls.
My reassurances.

My want is far from this air that I breathe and these lyrics that I sing.
Softly whispered through,
Pacifier pink lips.

My want is far from my fingers,
Fingers that can’t feel your face or,
Rise with the breath you breathe.
They lay here now,
with their own tiny heartbeats.
Alone.

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