three months on oak

I love my little room

Warm pink womb dark wood dried flowers

Wrap me in silks and satins, 

sex with myself or a man

In golden hour haze

A world my own in my window

Safety, she knows it well

Fun to wonder

How the seasons will texture her differently

Pull back my covers

Winter, thank you

For birthing this 

Cause if I love her now

Ill love her then