Rachel Jones

Poetry and Fiction


daughters

  • My Daughters

    Emotions sweep through me like a hot blast of wind. Sometimes I don’t feel worthy of my children’s touch. Their milky skin is as soft as Egyptian cotton. Their sweet smelling scalps still my mind. My children. Pieces of my body melded with my husband’s to bring forth these precious lives. How do I become… Continue reading

About Me

I started writing poems for the money, I stayed for the love of them game.

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