Today I was writing an article about terminally ill children. One story was particularly painful, that of an 11 week old boy who was diagnosed with terminal cancer…
I have been thinking about children a lot recently, and having a family so I started something this afternoon…it’s very rough, very rough, but I just needed to get something out.
I imagine that I will lose
when your time as a hermit ends
But I will hardly notice,
up the holes made by your shoulders
Because all the love will disguise
I will learn of tiredness
and my nipples will become
tall as pyramids, sore as new teeth.
in the most beautiful skin
Everything will be as exact as it should be,
and you will have plenty enough eyelashes
I will ache for the volcanic eruptions
of your cries, then for your forest lake of silence.
I will live to watch you watching me watching you,
I will not be afraid to let you see me cry.