An out of place juicebox on the corner of the yoga mat
disrupting the zen.
A parent's cold sweat in the middle of the night
when the phone rings.
Fingers absently tracing over tubing
checking for kinks.
And finger tips, callusing over - while inflamed tissue grows
on the belly.
Bruising and leaving purple polka dots.
It's an intrusion -
on the mind;
on the body.
It's sagging eyelids and a churning tummy
forced awake in the middle of the night.
A ravenous hunger and, an hour later,
a deep-seated nausea.
A constant tug of war between
peace of mind -
and staying alive.
It is a victory cry - at the end of a hike, a recital, a first sleepover, a first date.
The hurdle that makes the crossing of the finish line
It is the longest significant other ever to be entangled with.
It is mine.