I am having trouble
imagining you outside of
my imagination
outside of my own skin,
you are still so much a part of me
that there is no explanation
for the waves that move
without routine between my bones
your eyes are still all
clouds and smoke –
I dream of your mouth
like cinnamon
that will bow,
that will open
and call out for me
this foreign, self-defining thing
I’ve put up on the mantel
and dusted like some
undeserving prize is
something too surreal to
take down, to examine too
closely for detail, I am
so afraid it will slip smoothly
between my fingertips
for now you are still
the loveliest figment
nestled between who
I am and who I will be,
this small thing, this
awkward fleeting girl
with the readjusting
heart for you, my son.
I think…I think this is lovely as hope.
Thank you so much, Colleen ❤
So sweet your words above..I hope the baby will be a good child and cute..
Thank you so much!
You’r welcome…I hope you can write other stories about your baby next time.
This is absolutely beautiful.
Thank you, my friend. 🙂 xo