Swedish Meatballs


August 2001.

Dad, Mom and I went to Ikea
to prepare for your arrival.

Dad and I got meatballs,
Swedish meatballs.

The Swedish meatballs tasted like sawdust and foreboding.


September 2001.

The towers fell.
I knew I had to protect you. 

I started learning Kung Fu
to keep the boogeyman away.

He's never come close to either of us.


October 2001. 

You were tiny,
insignifiant to the world.

Yet you are huge,
important to me.

Your birth marked a new age.


August 2014.

Dad, Mom, You, and I
will go to Ikea.

I will leave you,
but I will still protect you.

This feeling tastes like Swedish meatballs.


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