9.13.2005

Miriam

one of my notebooks
has my mother’s name
(written on its cover, in red ink
highlighted in yellow).
it makes me think of her
sometimes as I write,
think of her way,
her mother’s-way.
it makes me think of me,
sometimes, the way she
made me think; I think I
have my mother’s name
somewhere

before me now
is the dawn of understanding:
to want so much is paralyzing.
I want for my child’s mother.
I

for my child
want
a brother, one,
and 2) a solitary spirit.
I want to know what it is like
to want one more;
my mother knows it still

I am my mother's son
I am her only, only child
she raised me alone till I was six.

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