Medical science tells us That we can, indeed, live With little holes in the heart I know this to be true.

Oh, little one, You just set up a wail In your sleep; Then, like a caterpillar, You climbed into my lap. And, your tiny body bent into My legs and knees, You sleep on. Your little chest Moves up and down with the breath That holds your precious life within This small body.

Soon, I will leave you And return home. You will be a voice heard on the phone; A few pixels on my laptop screen; You will no longer be the smell Of the moisturizer that you spilt So lavishly this morning No longer the tender fingers That so often rub against me As, in falling asleep, You move them back and forth Over my arms.

My love for you will overflow From these little holes in my heart That your physical absence, little caterpillar, Will create, in little shafts Of missing you unbearably.

And yes, I will live with those holes In my loving heart: I will take comfort That you are growing Halfway across the world, In a happy home.

You and your elder sister, Precious to me beyond imagining Will, once again, be tears Stinging behind my eyelids As I struggle to be rational about you Even as I wish I could be with you forever.