Fight

However much we Fight
Over who is wrong and
Who is right.
But the way he suckles me
Every night.
I can’t help but hug him
Warm and tight.
It doesn’t matter to me
If we Fight.
As he has this wonderful way
Of making every wrong
Seem so right.
With his egoless innocence
Of suckling me every night.

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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