i just don’t think i’ll ever get over you

Nels has awakened only a few hours after being put to bed. He can’t settle himself. I ask my husband to bring him to me in the armchair in the living room, lights low. My son is only partially awake and melts into my breast with a deep sigh. His hands stroke me and his eyes slant shut in bliss. I lean down into the top of his head, kiss him, take deep breaths of his milky, sweaty little aura. He smells so good it is almost delirious; like the scent of water, days in the desert… I will never get over the biological yearning my babies’ smells invoke in me.

After fifteen minutes my husband lifts him out of my arms. My son’s face is flushed and he is too sleepy to protest the separation. It is almost 10 o’clock and my husband and I finally have eachother to ourselves.

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