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They Love Their Babies


They love their babies

Never picturing lives intertwined

Wrapped up with incessant crying

Snotty noses

Waiting in the blistering cold

Or frigid pounding rain

Covering their babies with blankets

Pressed to their hearts

For a place on graffiti-laden seats

Smashed like sardines but nonetheless relieved to be warm

Singing to their babies


They love their babies

Though hearts dropped to stomachs and stomachs ached for days

Disappointment and hurt contorting faces

Mothers growing old in an instant

Grand now

Never wanting to see their daughters struggle

Hoping they'd enjoy an easier life

They love their babies

Though stretchmarks crisscross breasts

Circle stomachs

And lace buttocks and hips

Bones widening to make way for something they never wanted

Living hand to mouth

Dizzy from hunger but they feed and clothe their babies first


Though it hurts sometimes

More and more each day

They love their babies


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