9.08 pm,

A moan crackles over plastic speakers
I heave my body up from the long day
Bare feet padding thick carpet up squidgy stairs.
Quick, quiet, steps to the gate.
Click.

I hear your urgency. Feel it.
Push the white door
Shhhhhhhhh it whispers to the carpet.
Squint, groping for you in the darkness,
I am here.
A wooden frame – a bed on the floor built by your father’s hands. Grounded.
My eyes absorb the darkness – searching for your familiar shape.
My star fish.
I am here.

A hand on your pudgy tummy. Round and warm.
A soft balloon.
“Mummy’s here”
I lower myself as you search, latching in a dream, sleepful, a nuzzle, a touch.
Comfort.
You cradle my breast as if to kiss a face.
A close friend. A long lost love. Tender.
Soft gulps fill the quiet air.
Your body fits into mine.
A nut in its shell.
It remembers my heartbeat, my smell, a warm home, suspended, nourished, safe; curled up inside me.

Minutes, perhaps hours, pass,
release and roll.
My face pressed in the nape of your neck.
Curls stroke my cheeks.
Breathe you in.
My small wonder.
I lie still and heavy as a heap of grass.
I have learned your rhythms,
It is not time.
You are not yet satisfied.
I wait for your sigh, your flailing roll.
Latch. Milk and a smile in your sleep.
Roll away.

My slow retreat,
Practiced in the months and years.
Heavy hand on the belly.
Laughing buddha
I am here.
Slow easing of pressure, a ticking bomb,
I am here.
Hold my breath and lift.
I heave myself back up with a hand to the wall
Avoids the cracks and creaks.
Softly, softly,
Pull at the door.
Shhhhhhhhh it whispers to the carpet.
A gate closed with a click.
Barefoot slow, silent, squidgy stairs.
Time to settle back into the folds of the evening.

I wait for you to stir.