by Joan Hoeberichts
Not One, Not Two
Infant cries,
Dark night
Cold floor
Baby, warm, soft.
Seeking mouth turns towards mother's hand,
Pants with urgency.
Tiny mouth moves over neck, shoulder, breast, searching, searching,
Seizes nipple, s u c k s
Mother's milk releases
Small body sighs with satisfaction.
All eyes close, lost in mutual feeding.
Infant hand caresses mother's breast, strokes so gentle.
Tenderness deeper than pleasure.
Two bodies one body, nothing else exists.
