I Love you.. Impossible

my little love,
i am falling on my knees short. all my best words lie at your feet. through whatever you will be, this will be true. i know the core of you; my own is a magnet for it. it is how i found my first compass, hidden in the stack of my spine, protecting the quick of love, the space and time of you in my life. mothers and fathers talk about raising kids. maybe i am different, more likely you are. because you raise me up. you are the sun breaking through the top layer of ocean, where the waves make their choppy line between air and water, breath and quiet. you are the reminder to let myself be born into new ideas and struggles and contradictions. to break, to crack, to change my mind and ways. to not be stuck in the mud of boxy expectations. to never build that kind of a box for you. (and fight me if i ever do. i know you will.) though you breathe out peace, you get snagged on cruelty and illogic. then you try to give it a shape you can hold in your hands and work into a new one. you leave a trail of these gifts, that i am forever picking up and folding and breathing in. i have to imagine it this way, because you are as soft and fast as water. but the way you turn a feeling concrete makes you a magician. and all the real, the messy, the ground crumbling at our feet. all the new places to sleep, the new faces to translate to friends, the nest we are building with the branches we collect each day, the glue of each other. you are stretching on the tips of your perfectly arched feet. the way you reach, the art of your walk, the pure way you grace us with hello and goodbye, the gifts of the world through your soul. i imagine the look on my face is me at my most beautiful, when i look straight at you. everything has changed. changes we wanted, but which flood us nonetheless. the way you smile through every day and cry out at night tests me as it must test you. but i am your forever mama. you are my forever daughter. no end will ever end that truth.
i loved you first, mama

credits:
paislee press:
this much

heather joyce:
the BFF