IWNHM/IWNHO: Womb
I didn’t have children and I’m mostly fine with that. I chose something else. But I like to think that in an alternate universe there is another me who had the babies.
The baby falls asleep on a shoulder
tucked like soft bread in one arm
soft feet and unjaded hands
it’s a crooning cheek laid by
whispering the secrets in
weaving kinetic traces for later
like it will be filed away
buried memory woven in
making it like another
animal in the tribe.
From Cold Parade