Was it you the other day

wet running

across the beach

Toward me

Toward our child

Your dark wet hair

framing your hardsoft face

Proportionate and imperfect?

Was it the freedom in your running

That _illed my heart

with more than my recollection

Of capacity?

the softed light

Our child

Born from this love

From our union

A sprouting joyseed

A small world enveloping us

A frolicking warm blue air

Naked absent worldly weight

How did we get here?

born and bountiful

Where our passion

Brought not destruction

But creation

Where neither tiredness

nor unhappiness

exists

Only relaxation

and a desire

to slip away

into dreams

and impermanent nothingness

And sadness

as sweet and fulfilling

as biting

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