Small hands and tiny eyebrows resting over sweet skin, pink cheeks and cornsilk for hair
as they sleep and breath and exhale a sweet scent that I have breathed since it was inside me.
I made that scent from my blood and milk.
They are like honey to me honey filled still with bees that warm and sting,
that fly by my head and remind me of love and health and
my body a living sculpture growing life
which now grows me.

— — —

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