yourpainaintlove

Beautiful child, look at the way you see. Look at the way you follow ripples across the surface of broken water. Look at the way your thick limbs and pale hairs brush around my neck. Look at the way your eyes mirror me in pools of black and brown. Look at the way you blink away your dust; the way those very lashes wind about your heavy head. Our hearts beat with the same blood. I see my patterns some day becoming your own. I remember the way your breast would move as you dreamt of colors and shapes and trains and trucks and books with fat cardboard pages. Your sleeping breath was damp as it left your sore nostrils. Your hands were tensed int