Physiology of Maternal Love

Don’t break my heart.
It learned your shape in the park,
and has called it home ever since.

Don’t break my heart.
Blood may map the past,
but your touch named my world.

Don’t break my heart.
One hug eclipsed ancestry
and made a future out of skin and light.

The physiology of touch and love outweighs genealogy – anytime, anywhere.


What Do You See #362

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