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.