When I have a daughter I will tell her
You grew between the cracks of my skin,
I built you,
cell by cell,
over nine full moons,
a flower grown from blood.
Somewhere in your beautiful mind lives the distant memory, of loving only the sound of my voice and the slow hammer of my heart,
You trusted me before you knew me.
So if you ever question your capability to love fully, remember you have loved before, and you will love again.
Key Ballah via www.keywrites.com, Letters to Fatima (via rabbrakha)