my daughter is almost 5 and my son is nearly 2 I could simply say they're one and four but when the number's higher it sounds a little better they're less babies and more childlike you know, bigger and more wise I'm more wise
my daughter is almost five and my son is nearly two they're in our yard with twig berrets and mud stained smiles posing for a postcard to make the hose drinking generation proud. he straddles the ground, chest bare like he's Tarzan and howls at the blue sky challenging the sun
I look at him like he's made of stone she's a daisy pedal I crush in my hand and compress into a diamond the toxins dripping from the curling edges of my lips burn the dirt from her face the shine of the light washes out the blood on my knuckles. a ring on my finger and my hands look clean
my daughter is almost five and my son is nearly two their muddy fingers comb their feral hair and their green feet clip the grass till they find jagged rocks they weep over skinned kneecaps and with one arm I pull her close with the other I slug his shoulder, "buck up kiddo, you'll be alright" I hold a stone in each hand, and call one a precious gem while I build my house out of the other
my skin has washed against those stones since they were none and none built into the houses of a thousand graveyards I've watched daisies pile over golden sarcophaguses watched them wilt at the bottom of alters built on stone I won't carve epitaphs into these hearts I hold
my daughter is almost five and my son is nearly two we drag fallen branches to our firepit and dance to music next to the flames like weightless stone his strength surges to his tippytoes she powders his nose with ash and pretends she's a cheetah her game isn't to **** she just wants to chase princes have their feet welded to pedestals and the sport's no fun for her
my children aren't rocks, they're stardust I won't make kings or queens I've no providenceΒ Β over their future so I'll **** the venom from the sky and watch them walk back to the stars I may not be a champion but I'll be their father
Future generations deserve the best from our histories, not toxic artifacts