The sun isn't shining because I birth you and held you skin to skin for so hours; though this warmth brings me back there. My body is not hydrating because you kiss me on my neck while you piggy-back-ride with me down the stairs every morning; though this moisture is as sweet as your kisses.
The seasons just roll over one after the other, careless that this is your first spring as a walking running person. Rain simply falls not concerned with the puddles it leaves behind where you stomp your feet amazed at the response you receive from the world around you. Squirrels run up and down our front porch careless that you are so intensely watching them behind the window making sweet sounds at their every move.
And your baby brother/sister simply moves, pressing knees, elbows and heels against my internal organs and layers of tissues possibly unaware of your little hands touching my skin searching for "baby" and for intimacy and love and connection.
I am still amused by my ability to turn everything into my love for you. Can my heart possibly keep growing? My friend posted a picture of her daughter the captions said "My heart resides outside my body". I thought, how true! Is that because her heart once resided inside your body, I wonder?
I have one heart residing outside and a two residing inside my body. Is that why the way the sun feels today is ever so sweet?
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