Homecoming

By Justine C. Tajonera

His smile could light up
the world,
I think, as he runs to me
from the door.
Skin to skin, bone to bone,
his face fits right between
my chin
and shoulder.
He says, "Mommy" like it's
his favorite word,
the sweetest, sweetest thing
to hear over and over.
I hold in the scent of the
top of his head and
the feel of his chubby
little fingers, saving them
for days
when I feel lost
or drowned.
He buoys me,
melts me to my
very essence,
blessing me with
the privilege
to love him
for as long as
I possibly can.