For Jasmine
i don't own this beauty
but i will protect it like it's some white and girl-sized rose
walking around in tiny shorts and a high pony tail
feet slightly turned in
still (thankfully) aware there's something for us both to guard
this ferocity is not what i expected
when i put the picture of the blue eyed pink cheeked cherub
on the box of the cassette i made her father
for he and i to make love to
this ferocity that turns itself on me
"i hate you"
and i have to remember
even though i didn't say it to my mom
i was once just as fierce
imploding not exploding
i'd rather this
than anorexia and cysts
this height, this strength, this perfectly styled hair
none of it is mine
but all of it is mine
to guard as if i am a taloned beast
with sharpened teeth
and when the lights are out
pillow feet press
into my bony shins
the hand flung out across my chest
the sleepy words
i love you
mommy
this belongs to me
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From above
ReplyDeleteYou have a girl
you have a boy
you have another boy.
She's an angel
whose wings get regular dustings
and every so often a prayer.
Meantime her brothers groan
from growing bones
so you keep getting reminded
there aren't many days left
until their eyes count
your gray hairs
from above.
He grew two inches taller this summer
with a darkening upper lip
revealing an ephemeral baritone whenever he speaks
to an adult or orders take-out
but when he bosses his brother around
a teen tenor.
He took up fishing, now
tying knots and devouring fish
books while throwing back the catch
patiently casting and trolling
often reeling in nothing
but smiles.
Their eyes count
tears still, though, sometimes
from a load of homework, more often fists or taunts
and every once from missing
her