A poem: ‘At first, and then’

At first,
it feels like a shard of glass
poking into soft tissue
every time you move.

Then, over time, it softens
into a round-edged river stone,
heavy and cold,
uncomfortable in the belly;
weighty and pressing,
but not excruciating.

And eventually, it becomes a part of you you cherish
for the precious memories it holds,
and you wouldn’t want to be without it.