The only real miracle -
turning plasma into pulsing potential, that
thrums between two tiny grinning ears, studded
with two tiny earrings - the beginnings of
feminine maturity.
We quietly throb with fragile complexity.
Eight years ago
my little cousin was born of, from and into
love.
Sap mounts in trees. Lovers kiss, unseen. An old woman sighs her last,
and in the other room,
A child giggles self-unconsciously.
Happy Birthday, darling Riva Ariana Kaul.
You are loved.
<3
turning plasma into pulsing potential, that
thrums between two tiny grinning ears, studded
with two tiny earrings - the beginnings of
feminine maturity.
We quietly throb with fragile complexity.
Eight years ago
my little cousin was born of, from and into
love.
Sap mounts in trees. Lovers kiss, unseen. An old woman sighs her last,
and in the other room,
A child giggles self-unconsciously.
Happy Birthday, darling Riva Ariana Kaul.
You are loved.
<3
