Pure and Fleeting

Nursery 1 Minute 
Lean your forehead
into mine. Encircle
me in arms and snare
one fist at the nape 
of my neck.
Then,

scream. Unleash
a window-cracking
pterodactyl screech
right in my face as you 
spew a gutload of hot,
curdled breastmilk
down my shirt. 
Then,

smile. Throw your gums
wide open to display 
the milk-chunks
clinging to your 
tongue. 

Rip that fistful of hair 
from the base of my scalp 
as your laugh 
breaks over me.
Ouch! Fuck!
Little angel– 
no one else
can love me 
like you do.

Shabbat Shalom, y’all. 😁

Published by Peach Berman

Nanny. Educator. Sugar baby. Most women do the same work that I do. I just get paid for it. And I feel free.

Published

13 thoughts on “Pure and Fleeting”

  6. This brought back memories… me… my baby daughter… in a restaurant… holding her up in the air… happy… then your poem…!

    The joy of her giggles made up for what covered my face, and shirt…
    🇯🇲🏖️

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