when i was my son’s age i twisted a pipe cleaner into a shape that represented my mom holding me. she treasured those two circles and two sticks in her shadowbox. motherhood is all one big circle: the womb, the roundness of one’s child snuggling into a lap now that he is big, but not yet too big to want you; the wash cycle, the rinse cycle, the worried circles under your eyes from trying to figure out why he vomited in the middle of the night; so you call your mom, the circle returning back to origin for reassurance.
participating in the weekly photo challenge from daily post: circle is today’s theme
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