Cherry Coombe (@cherrycoombe)

And after birth (the hardest labour) our young cling on to toughening nipples, our bodies bagged by all our greatest loves have fed on formerly; we stagger, hot eyed, tear stained, raged with love and one day - and although the slog seems interminable - the past is shortened to a day - they leave - later knowing only how to explain how we often failed, a grief (theirs) left, engraved in our faces, lined with love. While casanova, John or Dick gets on with spreading seed, golf, cracking jokes and coming home in need - loved equally by our invisible souls, shrouded in being only half a seed.