This tightness 
A familiar,
Squeezing on hope
Still knowing it's airless. 
Thinking back to my son 
Left behind sadness-smeared glass
In a half door
Between play and work
His fingers begging on the top
As I walked away 
Breathing and swallowing the hurt
But walking on
Because he needed to learn strong
(I told myself)
Needed a wall between the world
( I believed)
absence a muscle
to be girded for moments
I hope are no inheritance.