Friday, May 18, 2012

Really bad poetry(?) aka wishing kids didn't grow during my emotional time of the month

Lets go back many moons ago
To a night of sleepy sighs,
soft downy heads and milky breath
as we cuddled in my bed.

Tiny fingers tangle in my curls
As I snuggle you so tight
I dream that I could keep you small
I wish it on every star, every night.


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