Butterfly kisses to the frame of her face
Soft, sweet murmurs make her heart skip a pace
A white line of euphoria, slipped into her drink
He’s behind her, pushing her off the edge, she can’t think
Hand in hand they travel up the stairs
Her hands run across his chin tickling his microscopic hairs
He explores her inner being, taking her yonder
Not once does she stop to maybe wonder
She hangs by the phone the following day and night
Fighting back tears that are set free despite her might
Her toned belly starts to jut out
She now teeter totters just to get about
Fluorescent lights, needles, doctors, and nurses too
All gawking at a newborn coated in shades of red and blue
But who does she belong to? Is it one or is it a few?
Both begin to cry, as if on cue

…She was so naïve.