Milk Drops
Short reflections from the quiet edge of biology and longing.
Where milk becomes metaphor, signal becomes story,
and the body remembers more than we admit.
Beneath the Skin of This Moment
He suckles gently, she melts, and the space between them becomes something alive. No milk releases, yet her body opens, his shoulders unburden, and a loop of comfort forms—leaving both fuller than before. Dry nursing isn’t an act of taking; it’s a moment where two nervous systems finally exhale. A soft, steady place where longing is held, not hidden.