365 Poems/201 Day One (Rough First Draft)

Day One

I want to bottle your mother’s smile.

Bring it out when we need it in the future,

when you first learn to use blusher, mix cocktails.

 

There’s an intimate warmth in this white cave

curtains ajar, so the sun can see you, and bless

your, beautiful, scrunched up forehead.

 

I was protective of your tiny insides before

you arrived. Fear nearly crippled me,

as you slowly moved through the day.

 

Your heavy lashes have collapsed.

Your tiny curled hand a shell on

your mother’s sand coloured breast.

 

There is a look about her I’ve never seen,

a radiance, as if a lantern has been lit

underneath her skin.

 

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