The curve of your head casts a line towards the horizon, oblique and endless,
Your hands fold in silent prayer as you sleep, lashes still and fanned like a moth resting on your cheek,
The endless cries that consumed you in those early months have given way to peacock shrieks and bubbling laughter,
Your hands have unfolded and stroke my cheek still moist from their enclosure,
Oh how my heart blooms for you each time you awaken and seeing me, smile as if I am your sun and you my morning star.
rufusrambles 