The burning tongues that preached throughout their days Still dance at dusk. From buried mem’ries rises golden blaze Through cloudy husk. Those ancient prayers converted into flames, Illumined sighs, Flung forth from death to color fam’ly names As fireflies.
I was wondering along the cemetery my family is buried in. My mom told my a few headstones down from my grandparents was a baby girl who died at one month and one day old. Named Rebecca. My heart stopped. I thought of you. My “freshman year of college” when we fell in love. At the time we weren’t together, you loved Heather why should I have told you? I was pregnant the first Christmas we faught, yelling in a target parking lot. I begged you to love me and you left me in the snow crying. I wasn’t going to tell you. At New Years you came to meet me- but it wasn’t me you wanted. You told me you loved me so you could **** me and leave me before midnight. I remember kissing one of my best friends instead that night at midnight. I told her that I thought I was pregnant. She kissed me and told me it would be okay. I never got to meet you, I only got the greeting of your demise. But I always felt you were a girl. I was right with my instinct when I found out about your brother. I just hope my little girl wherever you are, you are safe and happy. I asked Rebecca to stick around, I told her it’s okay if she wanted to follow me too.