Embrace

micro fiction, 70 words

Photo by Dekler Ph on Unsplash

Naught shall touch me she did say
And even as a baby lay
Squalling in her swaddling clothes.
A swat, a push, a hand well-bit
While latched upon on her mother’s tit- 
Human comfort, she did loathe.

As a seedling not well-tended
Never was her cold heart mended -
Till she teetered at death’s door.
Curled lip and hidden face
Didn’t welcome his embrace – 
Naught shall touch me she implored.