Friday, January 11, 2013

The mother no other


Every night, around 4 am
I creep into your room
With the fan whirring above you
The ayah sleeping on the floor
In readiness for diaper action
I curl up next to you, put my arms around you,
Bury my face in the musty sheets 
of disappointment
at a life whose promise remains unfulfilled.

But we still have these darkness moments
Of pure oceanic communion.
I was once in you
And you are forever in me
In the morning,
With TV blaring, sitting in your cane chair
You smile beatifically at me
And we both know
Some things are still unspoiled.

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