Ewe are my first

Bleating
and shaking
I hold
ewe.
Breathing
for the first time
Oxygen fills the sticky sacks
Expanding and retracting
In your chest.
Containers for
Emissions
The things
you will breath.
Your tiny body is
Awkward
in my hands
I do not know
how to hold a
baby
You
are my first.
My arms covered
In your mother’s blood
Afterbirth
A part of me
Shared with the
Bringing of ewe.
Right now
Life is not a gift
Ripped
from the Womb
Your senses are forced
to deal
(helpless)
with
this World
All that it has
to offer
and take.
I can only cradle
and hold
You
and your
throbbing pulse
against me,
Feeling as though
at any second
it might beat out.

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