We tiptoe into their rooms in the middle of the night, to watch their chests rise and fall, to study their juicy lips, to see what toy or doll they are clutching, to inhale their scent and listen to each breath. We imagine their dreams and sneak in one last goodnight kiss.
We stand over their beds to glimpse at our most beautiful illustrations of peace and grace.
When they sleep, we can still see the baby in them.
I wonder if the peaking will ever end?