Eyes open, wide and bloodshot,

I take in the scene:

My mother lying on the earth

In her torn dress,

Chiffon and glitter freckling the dirt

And her chest rising and falling

Leaking with every breath -

Blood and hope both falling to the ground.

 

It feels like a sin, sitting here,

Serenely watching as she struggles

For breath, for faith, for me.

 

If you had asked me a year ago, even four years ago,

Why I can’t say it back to her?

I wouldn’t have been able to tell you.

My breath would freeze, heat catching my cheeks,

Shoulders lifting and tilting into a stance that matches my words

“I don’t know.”

 

I do know.  

Now, at least, why I can’t repeat those three, simple words,

That she could utter in one breath, confidence

Enhancing the meaning and her smile shining through each letter.

 

I know now, why I find it so hard to whisper my affection for you.

Though my mouth is dry, lips waxy with desperation and Vaseline, and my heart is smashing through my ribcage, I mutter those tiny words, three syllables that rule the stars and our souls.

 

The immensity of it frightens me - knowing that one simple sentence released by my lips

Can control how another sees themselves, how they see me,

And how I create the world in their chest cavity.

 

At last, I stand up.

The wind pulls my hair behind me, urging me to turn away,

Leave her here to sleep in peace,

Instead, I lean over her, tears running from my chin to her cheeks.

I wish she could hear me now, and know what I know.

 

It’s too late for that,

My hearts pulls in my chest,

Like the tide under a full moon,

I close her eyes and tuck her cloud of hair behind her ears and utter it, urgent and quiet,

“I love you.”

And I leave her to find herself in the sky,

Knowing that she’ll be willing those words into my mind from the heavens.