You betray me nightly,
branching out of your child bones with elegance, slender elm trees
nonchalantly carving the lines of my mouth deeper
with each gentle breath.
Your tiny hands slipped too quickly from mine,
And dissipated the wobbly sweetness.
You are miracles of combustion,
Nuclear fusion squared, racing through shoe sizes
And vocabulary words, each new day
forming compact strangers limbs and thoughts.
My topaz and my chocolate, for you
I would pull clay from the air and water from the rock,
Cajole the summer sun to stretch his light a little further,
Beg the moon to stay when she shines on you like a silver lullaby.
I would absorb each tear like a slab of thirsty sandstone,
Slit my wrists and sew them back again,
Un-tape the doorway and turn off the oven.
My bear and my sweet bean,
I will forgive,
The dust you leave in my doorway, the empty echo of your rooms.
You must shred the delicate threads of your chrysalis, and one day
Fly away from me,
A web of steel and lilies, elemental as the spring.