I look at his baby face
Its not the same space
That I could smother with kisses
Always to excess.
I still go near
To the one so dear
And look for that lovely softness.
To press against, to breathe in
and to revel.
Alas, those cheeks have had a makeover
Two go's with the razor
I look for a tiny nook
But, I fear, a layer of sandpaper
is soon about to take over.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment