There’s something about boys sleeping. Watching that resting neck, the still hair, the power at ease, paused, vulnerable. Call me ridiculously motherly, call me hauntingly observant, shhh but just watch how he sleeps, oblivious to the waves tumbling inside my chest, he sleeps. My eyes get lost meandering among the soft curls on his head. I lie awake for hours, breathing.
August 6, 2009