There Are, Now, More Than Two Of Us

You lie upon my chest,
my chest beneath your sleeping head.
My stomach calls out as you rest –
we rest, a family in bed
with Mama sleeping
now her shift is done
(as over as it ever is…);
my left-hand cradleholds your skull;
my right writes,
rendering in ink this bliss.


Image credit
Vanessa Bell

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