Deborah Cox

Newborn - Poem by Deborah Cox

The folds in his neck
are sorer, hotter, wetter,
and smellier

than petals, creased - deeper
into their centre's inner

her nose and mouth recover
surface fur and blur
to breath

the fabric fixing her
as the softness of a skirt
clings to its little burr.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, March 23, 2014

Poem Edited: Monday, March 24, 2014

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