You saw the blinking of his eyes
And their tearing when he cried
You saw the softness of his lips
As they slobbered at your cheeks
You saw his nose as he snored in your bosom
You touched his head, he was wholesome
Your world was all you felt
It was sounds and what you smelled
Behind the black veil was your dear
So you saw your child with your ears
YOU ARE READING
Mania In A Monograph
Historical FictionSongs from an ever-reeling warped fuckulty of reasoning
