Self

Self diagnosed eclectic gatherer of things,
holder of the universe in our children,
gardener, writer, only his vixen,
obsessed with radiant placing of all objects,
acceptive of others.

Self inflicted scars from years past,
sleepiness, size, stress, scrapbooker,
organized chaotic mess,
must balence the weigh, time, work, play,
checkbook, kisses between boy and girl, myself.

Self healing wounds deep within,
corners I can hide things in until able-
to bring them to light and let them scab, new pink skin,
aching muscles I should have excersized yesterday,
the want for another child.

Self satisfying warmth from his body in our bed,
the sound of the pool when you are under, deep water,
Our sons hair brushing my face, our daughters kisses,
sand in my sheets, chocolate, writing, the sun on my skin,
peace within me, growth, serenity.