Samantha Moore

I come with a mother’s wise,
yielding flesh
and healing embraces
in the guise of a broken child.
Confusing, I know.
But you can bury your weary head in my bosom
and hide behind a notice posted,
which states that you are busy
Saving me.

I won’t tell of your soft spots.
I will collect each of your tears
and drink them down
to hide the evidence.
Your secrets are safe with me.
I am safe within your arms.
Hold tight
lest I escape.