They passed him over

They passed him over,

soft weight in my arms.

Everyone cooing,

a small, warm alarm

in my chest, but not

the one they wanted.

Peach-fuzz head,

a tiny fist curled tight.

He smelled clean,

new, and too bright.

I smiled the right smile,

held him close to my cheek.

Felt the steady breath,

heard the small, soft squeak.

And inside,

a vast, flat plain.

Just the expected weight,

the polite, soft rain

of their words around me.

Nothing else.

No sudden flood. Just

the silence of myself.