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the baby slept in a cloth bush hanging on the bed sheet
swung a fan that bounced off the wall of his mother's room cubicle, which
occasionally waking up wet nappy or thirsty nipples longing
while the nipple is in front of the terrace, sitting sweet on foot
looking forward to the evening customers of poachers
beds creaking to accommodate overlapping bodies thud
hunted breath moan chasing sweat lethargy
still, the baby was still slumped in a swinging cloth
lulled fan and cuddled with sigh
until the bed creaks halted the sigh of tears, ending
heard more baby whining miss nipples ...
woman night body directions for the milk of his child tomorrow .. forced to do for the responsibility of life with the baby .. this is life not to be regretted or mourned but must be run. only to the Divine is he surrender all what he did. enough he and the Divine