Somewhere inside us all, all of us human beings, is the child. Even when we are older, wiser, more experienced, good at taking care of ourselves, adept and successful at many things, deep within, the child is always present. The child, an advocate for our hearts. The child, un-jaded, unmarred by the misgivings and misunderstandings. The child, so full of hope and creativity and inspiration. Precious child, accessible to our grown selves when we know how to speak its language. The language of mommy. Tender, wanting, unconditional, vulnerable, innocent, free.

.

For me

She held her arms wide open, waiting for her little one to step into the engulfment, the swelling of her embrace –

oozing the love potion siphoned off the spirits – always was there more, more than enough and she would always pour herself

over again into this nurturing reverie; dreaming of a mommy, a mommy just for me.

.

to living sensual! xo Piper .

Poem by Piper Lauri SaloggaPainting by Katie M. Berggren