To Be Mother To A Son
I don't understand it
how it is to be a boy,
how it is to be a son
unto a father. I have a
heart carved from melon.
How can I know? I
want to. I try. I sit
and I try. I stand and
I try. I sleep and I
try. Clean cook bleed try.
There is a missing.
Can you tell me? Tell.
What is it to watch a god
bend to tie your shoe.
How is it to ask help
from your destination.
Your belief is tacit, it
speaks to yourself.
Outside me. Beside me.
Secrets hidden.
You are not me, I knew that.
I asked you here but remain
the other and you are
his one. I cannot soothe, or
know. I can't give a plum.
You hate me. Now. I
am not him. I am a mother.
