junecleavage

...The old woman behind the pink curtains
And the closed door
On the first floor
Shes listening through the air shaft
To see how long our swan song can last
And both hands
Now use both hands
Oh, no dont close your eyes
I am writing
Graffitti on your body
I am drawing the story of
How hard we tried
I am watching your chest rise and fall
Like the tides of my life,
And the rest of it all
And your bones have been my bedframe
And your flesh has been my pillow
I am waiting for sleep
To offer up the deep
With both hands
In each others shadows we grew less and less tall
And eventually our theories couldnt explain it all
And Im recording our history now on the bedroom wall
And eventually the landlord will come
And paint over it all...



And ~ all at once my faith is restored through the hard work, determination and love of our family - our tribe - my solace and sanctity...we have found a home...beautiful and ours alone...so we move again but for all the right reasons as the tiny little apartment box we have been residing in just didn't have the wear with all to hold our constantly growing family.
Oh!
And...the baby kicked me distinctly for the first time today.
I could cry from the beauty and purity of it all.