She’s shrinking again and I don’t know what to do
she’s fading fast, and in losing her I’m losing you -
she’s too little and whatever she gains she loses.
They shake their heads and sigh and mutter confusing
terminology that they think (hope) I don’t understand,
but I can read the lies in their eyes and know the outlook’s
bleak – and how can I bear to part with her when you’ve
already left?- She trembles and the alarms start bleeping
in frantic, panicked alert. My heartbeat races to catch up
with the sound and I pray for hers to return as harried
women rush around with stethoscopes and machines
and resignation evident in their faces.