You swam and slept in me in a little home of rubber and love Too young to be your god too small to be your home and yet I was
Born in me the size of a coiled fist I longed to spread my legs and pull you out balance your head on my palm hold your being against mine
But you made me wait stretching your legs realizing your worth spreading into your space until one day my insides went quiet as you giggled outside against my chest vibrations permeating through my heart
You had more growing to do running to experience memories to make laughs to share friends to discover nuances to learn tears to hide bravados to maintain masculinity to prove secrets to bury facades to present lies to mask your truth that you would gladly be shrinking to hide once more in the crevice of your first home
You’re six feet too tall now and six feet too deep. We say our last prayers and I wait for the earth to rip apart and spit you out I wait for you to crawl out of the dark – But you kept us there for years.
“He chose for himself” “Let him go” I smile and nod gracefully but keep my lips tight They don’t need to know that it’s not aversion to food but just clearing out an old room;
that you only left so that I could once more feel you hold you keep you where you chose to return deep in the crevice of my womb
“We die to return to that which created us – I belong to you.”