In the darkness
of the early morning
I wake to your
hungry cry
leaving the warmth
of my bed
Even through
my exhaustion
it is good to see
your little face again
as you drink your fill;
stroke your plump cheek,
your dimpled fingers
wrapped around mine
I sway,
breathing in
your milky scent
and the weight
of your body
succombs
again
to sleep
It isn't difficult
to believe
you are dreaming
of heaven
behind those
feathery lashes...
New from its
gates
an angel
in my arms.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
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