(A Sea Of) The Unborn

Sometimes I hear him yelping,  
the tiny one that never was;  
I feel his minute potential orbing  
in my head.  

He is writing me love letters;  
they are stacked against everything -  
Murmuring his faint heartbeat  
that never takes or emerges.  
 
I wonder how such solace  
could be mine to think of him,  
or how he dozes inside such  
bleak non-reality.  
 
Desperately, I feel him reaching,  
waiting for a reaction;  
I feel his liquid soul, his blue torment  
pulsing in a sea of the unborn.  
 
       .....  
 
#SharonOlds

( a non-entry )