Breathe

Breathe, Laurie, Breathe

Jeremy brought out the lambskin
and asked if his Cabbage Patch baby
could take a nap on it. I said yes.
He hummed away happily.

While I had a heart attack in secret.

I hate this. God, how I hate this.
I am calm on the outside, so I won't frighten him.

I simply cannot be sensible about this one.

He's got the doll laying face down
on the sheepskin,
and is tucking a blanket around his baby.

I stood in the bathroom,
shaking violently. And then I threw up.
My stomach hurt, my head hurt
with the explosion of memories
of the morning my baby
who died on the sheepskin.

That thing.
That thing Jeremy was now treating as a toy.
Memories that I can't consciously retrieve.
Only the nuclear bomb sense
of my soul being obliterated of security, faith and happiness.

Recovery is impossible
with the after-effects of the bomb.

To say nothing of the waste.
.