Precious Little One

It just hit me that I’m not gonna see you grow up. And it breaks my heart.

Your warm body rested beneath my chin. Perfectly shaped toes reminding me of a bunch of flower buds. The smell of sour milk mixed with cream, oil, perfume. That firm grasp. Big brown eyes. Shy hair strands. Lopsided smile with that teasing dimple. The heavy, satisfied sigh. The Milk Cry. Chubby, chubby cheeks.

I’ll pray for you to grow up well, happy and healthy.

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