Love's Conception

At night when we lay content at the conclusion of our day, wearied from labor but glad in our endeavors, I will inevitably say, something of inconsequence, while our barrier’s down to feel your laughter, slide inside my soul and curl in my womb. Our re-enactment of Loves conception. The sound of your laughter echoes in my mind long days after our moment of joy repast, like the trill of a bell beneath a fairy mound, who rings in the wonder an infant’s first cry rebounds.