Precious Love

Poetry

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash

As she suckles my tender breast
still aching from childbirth
I caress her soft skin with my finger
and whisper,
“How does it feel
to be cradled in the arms of love?”
Does the taste of sweet milk,
symbolic of the goodness I can offer,
remind her of safer times
while floating within my womb?
I watch as tiny droplets of liquid
drip from the creases of her smile.
“Gas,” they say, but I know differently
as her adoring eyes look into mine.
I wonder, how does it feel
having her supple skin
stroked with a calloused finger,
hardened by years of wear
against softness so new?

Previously published in my poetry collection, Precious Love