At the gestation station
Leaning on a mansion’s stanchion
Musing on divinity’s infinity
I whispered to my two-weeks-late mate
That our child’s head had crowned
And she unfrowned.
At the gestation station
Leaning on a mansion’s stanchion
Musing on divinity’s infinity
I whispered to my two-weeks-late mate
That our child’s head had crowned
And she unfrowned.