you are fuller than a baby’s feet,
the nubs that struggle to move and carry
mushrooms to his skull

explode, nuclear
& bleached as white as a diaper

you are that house that lives within
so many children’s arms,
separating for tree-trunks and satellites

but not to hug their father until
bedtime

if he has treated them alright –
you are the heart that swells of blood
green-love on the moon.