granite baby
fingerling,
never meant to be.
so tiny —
just an accidental dew-drop
precariously balanced
on a fingertip,
timeless —
but never mine,
just left behind.
I think of you
misty, evaporated
drifting off and away.
yet, at the same time
hard, like a peach pit
stuck in my throat.
I swallowed,
but you didn’t go down,
my granite baby.
perfectly carved
yet smooth
like a worry stone
I carry
in some pocket
wish it had a hole in it
so maybe you’d drop out
but you don’t,
connected by some unyielding chain.
my granite baby