sleep.

Sleep is not mine as much these days.

Milk.

brought over from Tumblr - Sept 14. Forgot to put here.

milk.

Soft the scent of

milk, warm.

the room is 

Dark.

Your mind moves

un-able to quiet

to be still as

the small form 

nested in your

arms.

little whimpers, grasping

tiny fingers.

Curled limbs, soft breaths

soft snorts

soft scents.

milk, the sweet scent fills that space

where she lays

in your arms

in the dark quiet

noises small, constant

constant comforts in the nearness

skin to skin

murmuring, wordless reassurances

as she stirs

face turning towards the source

for the current pleasure, of soothing:

the safety of the breast, the milk

that flows

the scent it brings

that pervades everything

for now.

Small sighs

Contended grunts

fading in to soft noises

as once again

Sleep brings again

quiet noises in darkness

in warmth.

ah, the ache

today the ache.