like a stone in the sun.
I wouldn’t call it a fever,
more like an elevated temperature.
Did I kiss him with honey on my lips?
Or is it that
Will we be up all night,
croupy cough keeping
us trapped in a steamy bathroom.
Rubbing his back
swaying back and forth,
trying to not burst in to tears
The whiny cry
It is the ends of spectrum
that terrify me.
the keening of pain.
This fragility is never lost on me.
A tiny heart,
pumping blood that is still my own.
keeping myself honest with the Write Alm prompts.
Today: soul full