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by | Issue #5, Poetry

He tucks the $5 into his sock
and looks up at my baby
says

When my son was a baby
I used to sit up all night
to make sure he was breathing

WHERE IS HE NOW?
I am screaming
in my head
WHERE IS HE NOW?
he is also screaming
in his head
maybe

With practice we can
listen past the screaming

Yes, I say
I hold my breath
so I can hear my son’s breathing
but sometimes my heartbeat
gets too loud and

I need air

Air, he says
yeah


Merri Andrew writes poetry and short fiction, some of which is published in Strange Horizons, Five On The Fifth, Cordite and Baby Teeth. She lives on Ngunnawal and Ngambri Country in Canberra, a city hiding in the sub-alpine bushland of Australia. Merri can be found on Twitter @MerriAndrewHere