Dear Future...
I think of you habitually.
Yearn to meet you
To hold you in my arms
To watch your undisturbed slumber.
You find me in my dreams.
Your crying jolts me from my sleep
Only to hear my own whimper
Feel my own damp face.
Your fingers cling to my memory
Chubby and petite.
Your arms flail,
Reaching through unfamiliar blindness.
If hope were a road
My travels would entail
Heart breaking bumps,
And devastating curves.
My faith has been tried.
My nerves frail, open
And exposed.
But still I embrace my broken conviction.
I can't wait until the day
I call you my own,
His own,
Our own,
My darling sweet unborn.
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