Her

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The weight of her in my arms,

unchanged by time.

The smell of her

sweet, musky joy so pure.

Traces of the baby she was play across a woman’s face.

The full, ebullient round of my love,

the swell of heart,

it’s almost too much to bear.

Yet we endure

in this dance,

She as my girl

and I as her mama,

holding fast to her hand.

2 thoughts on “Her

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