I stand here
Remnants of your
spontaneous fetal death
between my hands
I hope you know I held them gently
their presence cared and felt  
“we will find out what went wrong”
I repeat to the piece of tissue
you had began choosing names for

All I can imagine is the way
you longed to hold your “almost”
While we label and pack it for pathology
my coworkers unknowingly laugh and guess
what this mangled blobby mess could be

I want to tell them of the pain
That surely marked your face  
The tears falling from amber eyes
you hoped to pass down.

“I got you” I repeat to a container
holding what could’ve been a persons world
I am no one in the scheme of things
but right now I feel like the most important
person to have the chance to hold you.