Tuesday, December 6, 2011


7am cry
Papa stumbles to your room
You stop mid-wail when you hear his feet squeak on the floor boards
Carried to our big bed
You crawl over to me as I roll over & pull my shirt aside
Nipple found in the dark, I feel the strong latch that it took you so many difficult months to develop
Decisively, you pop off, sated
But not willing to move much
Little body alongside my ribs
Feet press into my thighs
Tousle head tucked under my chin
Cheek pressed to my collarbone
Little breaths blowing across my breast

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