Are probably the most probable thing,

To haphazardly reoccur

In one mother’s unknowing helluva world – her natural-born senses have been undeniably stirred

Been torn to dreaded pieces, a seemingly so irretrievable point of my very own bothersome, utterly bespoke and personalised agony …

You simply cannot imagine that

Yet, I shall sit right here, either way frozen forth, with this courageously brave blue-eyed baby

Boy,

How he simply came and took it all from me

Only to place it all immediately within strengthening reach,

Again

In All Of We, Perhaps!?

While holding carefully on to the other person’s precariously lent many a thing

At hair’s breadth length

And these extraordinarily suggestive aside unbelievably wary eyes,

Of suddenly savory his,

They may just happen to dig intricately, none too wastefully beneath,

And to feel this one frightened mother’s momentarily agonised demise,

Parcel-strapped by his barely beating body,

I appear to be, myself, utterly disguised, by many a force-fed smile,

For now, at least

Instigated ’til mind-bogglingly implemented, by a hounding, altogether resounding kind of unkindly pain

On out Everywhere …

Yet, he appears to be sitting right here, before me,

Radiance-in-waiting,

For all of We,

To lean ourselves oh so very extremely and softly against

And to simply see,

All of He …

I will bleed to the broken bones of my interior being – either way paralysed forth by this burgeoning thick ‘n’ thin life,

Of beloved yours, aside wholeheartedly devoted mine

As we do prosper and propel our felled selves … To Go, Time And Time,

Yet Again

We’ll be forever waiting, to cradle you say when, my dearest doting Daniel

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