Between Story-time, Mud Puddles, and Lunch

His plump infant belly melds into my soft belly with it's silvery stretch marks(flashes of fish in a pond.)

Our breathing syncs

together.  Each day after the first marks a step farther

that he moves 

from me.  In these quiet moments we are new

again; we are one body again, recycling blood

between us.  His breath 

smells faintly of milk he has taken from my breast.  A contended sigh sneaks past

blushed lips -the noise stirs the lazy cat blanketing my toes -  he settles 

into sleep. The same sun beams curl up against our skin.