Your feet, Eva, are the length of my thumbs, and your eyelashes are pale as snowflakes, and your breath is all sweetmilklove. Your cry, Eva, a rare bird--heartbreaking; your fingers, elegant fish; your eyes, deep sky.
Forty days you've been with us.
Forty days and forty nights, and this morning, I stared down at you, and my throat caught my breath, like it does these mornings with you, and the afternoons, the evenings; caught it like one of those pretty dreamcatchers I used to hang over my bed, and, in that moment, I wanted only that moment; in that moment, I knew of nothing else that would ever make me feel so utterly complete.
7 comments:
So very beautiful
Mom
It is fun watching you so in love with your precious baby!
oh my...extremely powerful!
Nicole, your writing is so beautiful, what a precious gift to your daughter and the rest of us. keep watching as her eyelashes grow, that was one of my favorite things... being there so I could watch their eyelashes grow and every day that happened. What wonderful memories... Karen Davidson Smith
Nicole, your writing is so beautiful, what a precious gift to your daughter and the rest of us. keep watching as her eyelashes grow, that was one of my favorite things... being there so I could watch their eyelashes grow and every day that happened. What wonderful memories... Karen Davidson Smith
Cute little booger.
So nice to find your blog! This is beautifully written. Hope you don't mind another reader :)
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