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.