Let go, woman.
He's not yours.

After all, you're just a piece
of wet soil
where a seed was sown.
and you don't even know
by what magic
the seed became the tree.
neither do you know why
it was this seed
and this tree
nor why it was you, who,
in that ecstatic moment,
begot the seed.
you'd be stupid, wouldn't you,
to think the tree
belongs to you?

Remember when
his pink tendril-like fingers
clutched and clawed
at your *******
and he suckled you
and you thought
you were feeding him?
woman, he was just
laying his claim
on his right to grow.
your ******* hurt, you lost sleep,
you fretted for him.
So what?

Woman, let go.
Please.
Remember this.
That string was meant
to be cut.
He was destined
to fly free
to strange distant lands
into adventure, danger, discovery,
on the wings of winds
unknown to you.

You can't ever lose
what was never yours.
So, woman,
Just let go.