Because These Days are Fleeting || Spring 2015

I hope to remember...

These days of newborn you are so snugly and intimate.

We wrap you in blankets passed down from your brother, your father, your uncles, your mother.

You curl up in my arms and nuzzle onto my chest until you find the perfect spot. Your head may be buried in the crook of my arm or stretched back so I can gaze at your face. If your arms are not swaddled, you gather them under your chin in a fist as another layer of comfort. 

We pull you close to our chests with your legs folded under like a frog.

We hold you tightly and you sleep to the rhythm of our heartbeat.

I hope to remember that you and I were once lazy and snugly and close. 

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