glowing looking at me and through holding the son; the repair: blue and white hair the color of - there aren't words she was she and me and all in; holding him i crossed over the waning crescent, held and stroked. nothing was asked of me I was present - I was: and she loved and that was all that was. "Does she have a name?" no name, yet. she wasn't there for introductions she was there to show love to offer to nurture and I to receive.
Kisses fall to my forehead to the crevice of my neck "What are you doing?" I ask, laughing, holding his face between my hands. "I don't want you to run out." He kisses my forehead, again. "Then I need 10 more." He takes my face in his hands. "There," he responds, looking satisfied., "I gave you 12."