Munchausen by Proxy

When the child looks up
smiling slightly, wrapped in warm doting,
blanket-tucked up barbershop sharp to the neckline,
glowing red feverish cheeks around the upturned lips
chubby fists like baked buns

He wishes, secretly,
that the supine helplessness might endure
so that he can go on like this
forever
needed

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