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Mar 2017
The clock stopped

And was defibrillated by the breath
Of the materialized bundle of
Blue skin and slippery warmth and matted hair.

An eternity of pain that lasted hours
Turned to infinity of minutes of suctioning and flashing lights,
Then to days that felt like forever of hospital stays.

The timeless car ride home turned into
Equally long three hour lifetimes,
Each expiring with every hungry cry.

The rest of my life
Is punctuated by moments,
By such realizations as, that

This minuscule creature
Kicking staccato butterfly flutters
Now on the outside of my stomach
Traveled in a horseshoe pattern from the inside to get there;

That I've never felt like such a miracle
As when listening to tiny bellows
Pump air in and out, mechanically rhythmic,
Like a drummer at the band practice of life.
Written by
Batya  Israel
   --- and FraisDeLaFerme
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