Infantile
Evelyn Jey
Sometimes,
I am lonely.
I stare out the window
And wish for the world.
Not to share it,
Not to give it with grace and selflessness,
But to hold it greedily,
Cradling it warm and wet in my palm,
Blowing on its newly hatched face
Comforting its not yet opened eyes,
Even though I would have no idea how
And i myself would be an afterthought
Of mere conception.
