make love, a voice whispers. make love to yourself, you fool. funny because i've spent years of my life copulating, fucking, sucking. unifying myself with another calling it "love making."
but i hadn't made love until i became a mother. now, i am shedding my life's blood and infusing this beautiful creature with every ounce of red and purple pumping. it is alchemy. the ability to give and give yet somehow remain standing and hugging this child closer than i did the day before. LOVE MAKING.
how is this possible? well, the whisper says, hey you, go fuck yourself. with meditation, a bukowski poem, a cup of tea, and that hand of yours. it's just that simple. and hard. to come by as a parent. now if you will excuse me, i must go make this love inside. tomorrow is calling and her name is MIRABELLE.
