Friday, January 16, 2009

Things that quicken my heart:

The warmth of his velvety skin against my cheek.
The solid maleness of this little creature. Already he's thicker through the upper arms, back and torso than his bigger sister, like he sneaks out and chops wood when we're not looking.
A glimpse of my father in his blue eyes. It's there and then gone just as quickly and I ache to pull it back.
The burble of sounds from his mouth as he bounces in his chair. And the promise of the words to come.
The feel of his head resting in the nest of my arm and shoulder as I carry him across the house.
Blue jeans on his bowed legs.
The smell of his perfect head. It's like a whiff of hay on the breeze.
Bedtime. His. Bedtime. Ours.
His sister murmuring his name and brushing her cheek up against his.
Bedtime.
The firm S-curve of his spine as I hoist him aloft, naked to the world.
Bedtime.

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