Tag: babies

• January 5, 2025

  Singular two

  A recent poem of mine the baby at the edge of his change tablea leg lolling over the sidelimp wrist, fingers curledto lick and pullmemory is seeking formmind is seeking matterthen those fingers find rounded bumpsbut the tongue waitslike silence always waitsbreath at the hole it needspunctures she’s thereself contained unit of the childelbows are…