Two little girls sleeping soundly in the next room. If I strain my ears hard enough, I can hear their steady breathing. Their presence lies on the living room floor, in scattered toys and misplaced socks. In nighttime waking with a baby unsettled by teething.
They are written in the laugh lines around my eyes.
Three little ones, just out of sight. Their absence glaring and painful.
A chain of silver around my neck- a circle, a name, a birthdate. Two bins of clothes and blankets, stuffed animals never cuddled or played with.
If I sit quietly I can feel their presence. Deep as the ocean. Still and silent as winter night.
Warm as the sun.
They are written on my heart.
My arms may be empty of three little ones but my heart...
my heart is full of them.