For Abigail

Her teeny tiny giggle gurgles from the backseat
and she wheezes from the laughing. 

The noise bursts from her like an innocent hurricane,
                         devastating me,
                                                   flattening me. 

No amount of preparation or guardedness can save me. 

She is god and daughter to me—
the object of my devotion and my precious child. 

She is innocent, even a bit naïve,
completely oblivious to the pain and terror the world waits to pile on her. 
Her simplicity reminds me of the freedom to ignore the world, to willfully close my eyes and wistfully remember to breathe,

to live. 

She saves my soul with every choked out, snotty, shrill squeal of delight.