Poetry & Custard

Things that fall to the earth like liquid gold

It has been 3 weeks since giving birth, 3 weeks of motherhood, and 3 weeks of baby Remi. The days and nights blend into each other and hours of the day are spent mostly staring into his newborn eyes, changing diaper after diaper, ravenously getting food in me between breastfeeds, and a whole new language to learn. I’d like to confess that postpartum has been the least poetic in the most humbling way, or maybe just that, the most poetic one can get. I will write about this more as I am currently in the most active phase of postpartum but to keep things short if there is one thing that has been most nourishing to me these days besides newborn cuddles

it’s been poetic scribbles between nap times and warm custard my lover makes. There is something about this rich colour, custard yellow that has painted my world lately. It mirrors the colour of my colostrum and the first few days of feeding, Remi's first poops, the golden sunlight through the window…