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0 Comments | Nov 24, 2013

New to This Life

She is her mother’s first born

and blessed as such.

In these first few fragile moments,

her very breath yet tenuous,

she looks up at me

with what seems like recognition,

and her lips, all tiny and pale,

struggle to say something,

though that, of course, is impossible.

Still, it feels to me like words

or at least the precursors of words.

and I wonder if perhaps

she has been waiting all these months

to deliver to me alone

her mysterious message,

Only minutes old

but determined as only the innocent

can be to succeed,

she clutches my fingertip

and makes me listen.

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