Eyes
talk,
words more,
hands my home.
Hold back tear drops when
the thought of us apart haunts my dreams.


***


Soft
warm
baby.
Truest love.
Little bundled girl
taught me the magic of mother.

Your Talk

pretending to be children,

lonesome

giant, in some

unadorned, bigger somewhere,

busy cutting something,

you saw:

“on the… out at…

with to… and, no!

as did… and other…

do…”

I ready to believe

you,

your talk,

always steady

end in more

communication

your lines could

you

I , too

we

out of that cubicle

no end to where we go, do,

in the city of you,

you.