Saturday, March 30, 2013

watching my daughter sleep

Like a fish, all puckered lips-
She rises to the surface of her dreaming.
I kiss the skin of each eye,
and huddle in this yawn of space
Opened in my body by her breathing.

I marvel that she is a stranger, still and ever-
contained inside a vessel of my making
While I am netted, frightened, caught
by what I have pulled forth from in my deep.