On Losing Her (for my son, I love you already)
Losing you was like running out of air
Though I’ve never really panted for dear life
Sometimes at the most random times
I’m overtaken by the demons of my anxiety
And they, like spikes in my brain,
Penetrate into my foundations
And at the core they find you
You, who might have been
and you who will not be.
Do you think it’s particularly fair?
We can reveal those little secrets
And entrust another with our hearts
like Meleager whose life depended on carefulness
which a heart-holder must have.
But for it all, it turns out for naught
Why did I not beg of you at first glance:
“Be careful with my heart, my love!”
That which beats within is much more
precious than we will ever be able
to imagine.
So watch over your heart, son.
Make sure that the one who holds it
Knows how to protect it and won’t burn it
Like Meleager destined for waste
Tell her to keep it warm as “mama’s oven”
Make sure you are in good hands, my son.
For if you took she that I loved into your hands,
You would be left with no choice
but to teach your son the same.
