I can still see you there, lying on the bed, covered in a towel.
Your skin was so red, so translucent.
I was so afraid to touch you. Afraid I would break you.
But you were already broken.
Your heart gave up, and I don't know why.
No mother should have to see their baby this small.
But mothers do.
And we weep.
We weep over the lives lost. The lives once hoped for, planned for.
The lives that are no longer.
Oh together we weep.