Renaissance

Birth is painful.
Gut wrenching.
Heart aching.
Head fucking.
Painful.

All the more painful
When you thought you were barren
When you thought
That last time
Was the one time
The only time
The true time.

Em.
Just the name.
Conjures all the sweetness.
The bitterness.
The pain.
Of birth.
And loss.
The whole gentle, uncertain dance.
Finished.
Before it really started.

You are still there.
I can close my eyes
And see you as we whirl beneath the tree.
Lifetimes ago.
And gone.

You live within me.
Loved.

And now.
How can I love another?

Birth is painful.
Gut wrenching.
Heart aching.
Head fucking.
Painful.