You arrive at my shoulder
with a handful of tears
you scooped by the toning
of a regretful death
you tell me, a few secrets
harder to keep, spilling is easier
you need only hold one bean
it is a classic, what they tell you
about carrying, on your front
a bloating of water, pregnancies
of sugar and lumps truly not ours
you say regret comes in fetuses
when you carry the weight on your back
it is a hunch, a deformation
of the same bones, bent outside for the inside weight
you say, I do it for love,
this suffering, hugs brisked by
snowfall, blood drained through water.
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