Confined to that  labyrinth,

those translucent limbs wore her down.

She dreamed of honey and coconut milk,

of transparent lids  and fingertips

sucked into fragile rose-bud lips.

Captive in those barriers,

imprisoned in shifting walls,

falling through  nautical twilight

hope cast its shadow on  her.



Happy Mother’s Day

52 thoughts on “waiting to inhale

  1. A month of catching up, oh boy! It is like binge-ing on a great television series!
    This was a beautiful dedication for mothers, aunts and grandmas, Holly. Hugs, Robin 💐 🐚


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