A Mother is born from love
I can see you clearly. You are a glance conceived by a deceiving thought. I am not sure if I ever truly wanted you, but I have always imagined I would love you. I always pictured you in the miracles of others, but never recognized you in my own. Sometimes, I would stalk you in my thoughts and could see your future addiction to me. I spoke so much of your existence that, with time, you became tangible. The certainty that you will quiver my womb often frightened me. You were a thought, a thought that would maybe, someday, tell me its story.