Sol dreaming
These are the things you didn't tell me
that without your warmth the world would choke on its own darkness
that vines would straggle
and wither
and die
and the world would spin into oblivion, oblivious in its Antarctic freeze
that without your silken touch, legs would bow until they formed a perfect O
that without you no amount of milk could save the rickety child
that too much of your love could bring out the watermelon red
the prickly rashes and furnace heat hidden under cotton
that too much love could make my skin fissure
and blister
and peel
that the healthy glow you gave me would age me, wrinkle me, crow my eyes
that today I would feel your loving touch growing on my face
that today the surgeon would take his blade to me to cut away evidence of you
that tomorrow it might be my children's faces, younger, ever younger
that when you give you life, you also take it away.