Fibers

He pulls the truck over
and on the side of the road
he holds me.

I shudder out a breath
as the tears spill slowly
from eyes to chin.

I am breathing through my nose,
vain attempts to steady myself
afraid if I exhale
I may shatter his lips
with the
quiver of my mouth.

His kisses are short and tender,
deliberate
as if extracting venom from
a snake bite.

The toxic debris of
news that leaves my chest
tight from the refusal of heaving.

and I wonder
if one day

this

is what my children will feel.
Constriction and confusion
as they are held by arms that love them.