I: your kin: the sinew sin.

My breath,
                          this spark,
your life,  
                          my flame,
ennobled strife,
                          divine ordained.

The bone cracks; it's a chicken wing-
-a wishbone. A girl whispers beneath her breath:
"Let me find love."

She dies of cancer, fourteen months later.
Sammy was seven.
Her parents still love her.

I do not yet know your name,
though I imagine it pretty or plain:
Elizabeth or Ruth, Amara or Yue,
Claire or Bethany who lives by the zoo.

You'll be seven foot tall, and four foot three,
Stand with bowed legs, and sing in your sleep.
You'll know mathematics, like seven times one;
Add us together, and make for the sun.

Less would be shameful, this we'll both know;
So we'll zip from the ground, fired from bows.
The stars our audience, we'll burn to a crisp,
We, a miracle, sealed with a kiss.

I love the rain.
Each drop is a promise made and kept,
Whispered into the air for all to hear:

F
  A
L
   L

Slay the dragon;
The unkindness of the heart,
That whispers in the late of night
Of all your dreams gone dark.

For why would I be aught but myself?

Dost the eagle swim?
Dost the whale totter?

Forsooth, I am Man.
Forsooth, I am-

-bickering teeth and a tongue too glib.
-fond, warm eyes, ready to jig.
-gentle songs on a summer's day.
-a hearty breakup just before May.
-the roar of ice, crackled by heat.
-a fiery shout, far from replete.
-passion stopped by unsought sound.
-my own demise, far from profound.

Indeed I am, all this and more,
I swear to me, I swear quite sure.