A. poetry fills me with the holy spirit.
B. i will form these words. these words form me.
:poem and poet parent each other.
mother-i to poem:
you are conceived in miles on a life-stifled road. you’re drifty. you are an unmapped geography. you pull on edges and mark the stretch of existing boundaries. from seed is seed and seen, you are. i roll to and from all bright sides, round and heavy with you. i carry you like a foreign body of curious origin, like an itch i cannot contemplate any longer. and then i want to live there each time: in your nascent breaths, in your blind and blinking new eyes.
mother-poem to poet:
i carry you like the whorls at the tips of your fingers. i will not be unknit from you. we are unbound and bound like wombed-mother and wombed-child. we make careful choices to be this.
father-i to poem:
i beam you brightly and ponder your destiny. there is much that i have not learned about your fingers and toes. still, i carve out a little home for you, bear you in, plant you in my identity. here is a new name for what i am. you are a determined thing. all of your parts have a job. and i want to do right by you. but someday i will snarl about who you are/not, your wasted potential. i will say that i don’t know why. you make me feel so foolish.
father-poem to poet:
you wear my name like a badge and i wear yours like a tattoo. we can only know our ages by signposts we have inscribed on each other. you are not timeless either you know. and i am not critical but
i saw you look up heuristic
saw you look up holy
saw you look up manifesto
look up myth.