This is true growth, Womanhood.

I miss writing love poems about you.
You need to come here and inspire me
touch me in a million different ways
feed me cherries
talk to me with your lips touching my skin.

But innocence will never be without a touch of grief
love will never be without a touch of loss
life will never be without a touch of death
ever again.

Maybe when I have kids, and I watch them play,
maybe then I will forget about mortality for a second there
and believe in my second childhood.

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