Nothing but Skin

My arms cradle the softness,

that gentle weight pressing down,

a baby nestled close,

a quiet body wrapped in silence,

expectations bloom like flowers,

yet my heart feels heavy,

a distant ache,

a piece not fitting,

like a puzzle forever missing its edges.

The room hums with laughter,

relatives leaning close,

watching for signs, a flicker,

but the joy hangs in the air,

a thick fog,

while I search for connection,

searching in the gaze of someone

who knows nothing yet.

Holding still,

it’s just skin,

every moment a weight

I’m unsure how to lift,

a stranger in familiar arms,

a love I can’t quite touch.