This afternoon you put your arms around me and rest your head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around you, our bodies forming to each other. I hear your breathing, something that every mother must cherish. I hear your soft grunts as you reposition yourself to mould better to my embrace. The slight catch in your breath as you shift your head on my shoulder. These creaks in your breathing are more special to me than any of the compliments I get from strangers about you. They remind me that you are mine, that you are my child and that you need me. I need you in the same way that you need me. Your determined stubourness is lost here, with your head on my shoulder. You’ve lost your power or perhaps don’t care to fight for it. I am your mother, you are my child. I will let you put your face in my neck anytime you want, and hope that you will when you’re wanting me to be a simple answer to your craving for comfort.