She found it impossible to conceive a way to hide the pause,
the pause pregnant with the kicking congratulatory kiss dragging its feet,
holding tight to the symphony of 'why not me?' and glassy-eyed longing.
The joy came in waves; as decades of together subdued the aching -
she reached out to squeeze her hand
its ok
don't be sorry for this - I really I'm so happy for you
You'll be a wonderful mother - I just know it
I want you to have this

And there it is in the silence -
I just want this too

And she'll be there when the sweat is kissing your face,
and she'll take up your cause when you're running in place
and she'll care for your boy, so you can rest,
and when you feel your flailing she remind you you're the best.

Dripping ******* and vaginal tearing are topics for tea
but she can't tell the aching of a womb without devastating a room.
Or tell the secret that she just bought the perfect home for children,
a home she must now cover to hide her own foolish hope.
She sees them sometimes playing in the river of her dreams
and the love swelling daily, bursts at the seams.
But therein the waking reality bites
for this dream is a dream that won't come to life.