Lions, Giraffes, and Bears

SAMSUNG

Good morning Sunday, we are curled in cough and congestion, in wrinkled folded mounds. His tiny bare feet buried in my hip, burn from heel to toe. The tiniest chest rises and falls beside me. I am happy he slept. I worried he might stir the night away, whimper, tear, toss and turn his warm body away from dreams, sweet little things like lions, giraffes, and bears.

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Categories: Writing

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