he’s trying to be considerate of my time
but i know too much about him now to rush.
he’s only here on days when he’s not
nursing his mother back to health.
i feel the need to exorcise his restlessness
through foam and thunder
like the moon does for the tide
back and forth / back and forth
i erode him down to a boy
with a simple question:
“will you take care of me?”
and like so many poets before me
i conquer death for him
if only for a moment
with my mouth.