Nursing

At first, you suckle quickly, voraciously.
I stare endlessly.
Then, warm milk comes generously.

The dim light caresses your face, silhouetting your profile as you take long drawing sucks, swallowing, swallowing, swallowing.

Our eyes grow heavy.
Your curious hand reaches tenderly, grasping my nose, my lips,
patting my chest.
Your busy body slows as sleep overtakes you.

Your tongue flutters. You are pulled deeper into dreamland.
My heartbeat is familiar, my breathing soothes you,
my smell comforts you.

It is your favorite place. Mine too.
You are perfectly nourished, perfectly satisfied, perfectly growing.