Monday, September 9, 2013

HOME: SARAH, PT. I



Where we have glee inducing tickle fights that often end in bloodshed

Where we sit in a knowing, comfortable silence across the room from each other, yet feeling as close in our souls as if we were touching

Where no one makes fun of the unbidden twangy accent that spills from my sleepy lips should the pillow talk last later than ten

Where frequent failure is met with unyielding forgiveness

Where trust and comfort meet and I feel safe

Where I meet familiar faces each day walking my habitual route through the streets, stopping sometimes for a chat or often simply a nod and smile

Where my dance moves don't immediately induce feelings shame & regret, but rather are met with squeals of three-year-old delight & laughter as he's dancing with me in equally silly fashion

Where I pad softly in to stare creepily at my sweetly sleeping babe and press his still-chubby cheek with a kiss


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