The Child
Mar 6, 2024
Until he returns–
the child you once lost
in the folds of your bed
in the pleats of your skirt
in the spinning of threads.
The child you once forgot
at a midwestern bus stop
buried in hail
in the highlights of your hair
in the gloves of your heart
in the weight of your head.
The child you once abandoned
in a Damascene mosque
riddled with beads
chiseled with silence
adorned with burns.
Until he returns.