alone, and cold, and wanting
nothing more than to wrap my arms around you
and feel your little body against mine
open and trusting, soft and hot
with your loud rasping breathing in my ear
moving the hair on my neck
and your chubby arms squeezing my shoulders
as your tiny clammy hands play with the back of my shirt
and you listen impassively
and think about birds, or lunch, or that you need to go *****
while I tell you in the softest tones I can
that everything will be alright
and that I love you very much
and that I cried when I wrote this.