You were not created or carved out of my womb.
The day you walked straight off my womb; moving away the
thin curtains of the placenta and inner membranes. Marching into my heart. The
stomping was so loud; I could hear my heart beat impatiently in my ears. People
around me were applauding, cheering, and there was so much happiness and joy. I
gave into sleep while the morphine in your laughter created my inmost being.
The courage, the strength and fear that experiences had carved, left me. Only thing that remained was you in my
pint-sized heart. The chambers incidentally had space only for you.
All the
memories fled into a thin corner of my conscience and you knit me together, my
baby.
No comments:
Post a Comment