In the fourth month of hope you were delivered in an envelope with your home in a window marked for my attention with a PP signature. I held you for a short time whispering your name in a disinfected wind they called you "Downs" by a reference number. In the fourth month of needles the three of us walked in a photographed wind we called each other darling by the sea and your sonograph. I held you via your Mother your face in my head was a boys, It looked nothing like me and I chose not to look As they swathed you in a logo towel named after a Saint. In the fifth month of blame the two of us walked in a mantelpiece wind she called me a coward as grey air missed the ocean lacing battered rocks