Thursday, March 15, 2007
"But the last one: the baby who trails his scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after - oh, that's love by a different name. He is the babe you hold in your arms for an hour after he's gone to sleep. If you put him down in the crib, he might wake up changed and fly away. So instead you rock by the window, drinking the light from his skin, breathing his exhaled dreams. Your heart bays to the double crescent moons of closed lashes on his cheeks. He's the one you can't put down."
Now that's my Malachi. : )