Familiarity slips away, noticed.
Metallic taste-buds pant milky.
Silent Night nurses wave, embracing end of shift.
Shrill-voiced newcomers mingle, pipes untested.
I wait, finding my way from yellow to white.
Retinas flash, sad for the unnamed.
Fingers swish down sallow cheeks, cooing songs from someone else’s childhood.
Cold wool. Leather gloves. Pen scratches paper.
Tucked and whisked in borrowed things.
Yellow cab. Four journeys- clandestine.
Slats surround. White walls.
Looming lookers, feed, change, retreat. No tethering. Foul foreign breath.
Floating without- what?
Eight months on.
Curly nose tickler. Silly smile.
Lace bonnet belonging.
Kisses on top, bottom, front.
Mom.
Blessings,
V.L.
—————
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V.L. Brunskill 