Though I never discussed it,
your stomach enchanted me.
Perpetually giving birth,
something I could not do.
Carrying my hope like a still-born baby
I touched your stomach first
before your giant hands wrapped mine up,
or your arm, heavy as a log, fell across my shoulders.
It was magic to touch the center of you
where all was hidden
wrapped in intestines,
a treasure no eye could see.
The inner you, never given to me.
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