Ten perfect fingers
The tiniest of eyelashes frame delicate blue eyesNestled perfectly in his chubby faceHe stirs a little, murmurs and sighsBut remains at peace, which is a reliefTo his mother, so tired, laid on her bed,She reaches over, her fingers brush his golden hairSoft like down.She marvels at the softness of his skinSo smooth, untouched, unlived inHe …