I was in trouble again.
I'd just awakened our baby- again.
Most mothers want their new baby to sleep;
That was their most prolific time of day,
But not me; I was afraid.
Sudden infant death was known
To stalk new babies;
How could I be sure
Death wasn't stalking her this very moment;
Slowing her breaths, her heartbeats,
Taking her away, by one sly degree at a time
To the land where there are no sweet baby dreams.
That cry of awakening was a drug for me;
A reassurance. I needed my fix.
I couldn't stop doing it.
But babies need their sleep.
So one day, her father sat down calmly
And he told me,
She wants to keep living much more strongly
Than you could ever wish it for her,
Her being is strong and it has an incredible
Will to stay alive.
Somehow, I finally got it.

Years later, and somebody had to give me
The adult version of this talk; she was nearly grown;
You can't live her life for her, can't suffer
All her pains for her, instead.
How many more times will I need reminding-
How many more days will she live
On the outside of my body, instead?

I fed a newly-lit flame once.
The heat dispersed and the flames
all seemed to multiply.
They grew and grew until
they became a part of me.

I fed an ever-burning fire once.
I always felt it. Burning, shining
for the world to see.
That fire was real, it was strong,
but it began to dwindle.

And now I feed these smoldering ashes.
They no longer glow, but if you were
to touch them, they would singe you.

54

If I should die,
And you should live—
And time should gurgle on—
And morn should beam—
And noon should burn—
As it has usual done—
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go—
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
’Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with Daisies lie—
That Commerce will continue—
And Trades as briskly fly—
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene—
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!

You scare me silly.
I'm 3 million years old, but you don't care.
I'm five to you.
A little girl.
Who's inevitably and perpetually,
Silly.

As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
When the hot water gives out or goes tepid,
So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,
O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.

I get off thinking
me not wearing any clothing
you dressed, pleasing me.