Breasts

…

…for them. Sometimes, now, I hold them a moment, One in each hand, twin windows. Heavy with grief. They were a gift to me, and then they were ours, like little nurslings of excitement and plenty. She refers to them as dumb with no language or knowledge of death but is comforted by their company. By doing so she gives them a sense of innocence adding to the child like personality she sees in twins.