When I held you

fresh from birth’s

liberating cut

I never knew the pain we

would cause each other

each time I tried to bind you in control

each time you

wrestled to be free.

I did not know then

that people are not ships to be steered

but clay to be molded.

 

So much in life is this

ying yang of pain

a strike of venom

that tastes of love

but poisons our thoughts with

self protection.

 

Please never leave that moment

when you were smaller than my forearm and

I was older than your life and we were bound in a love without

conditions.