somewhere a little child moves
prettier than a
ballerina’s shoes
and what he lacks in
easy grace
he makes up by the
look on their face
these months have
been such a blur
they know not even if
he’s a her
starting from a
moment of choice
that’s part decision,
more surprise
for in the throes of
sweet surrender
of an eternity way
too tender
as they lie back and
they sigh
the heavens conspire his
first cry
and so the days
quickly roll on
with each sunrise
reality dawns
what was two between
me and you
in a caress of limbs
so swiftly grew
it shows up in a
widening of waist
and a phantasmagoria
of taste
sweet now, sour then,
this longing for food
the husband a
marionette of her mood
but truly it’s
tougher on the wife
she carries
complicity and also life
she is the one who
must face the stare
and the breakfast
that her throat does bare
hers is the body that swims and swells
that stays silent and
even then tells
she is the one who
quits ambition
career, growth and
lofty vision
but he too is caught
in a spider’s tease
where the webs of
work never cease
aware thus he is of
his human debt
to a blood born from
his animal sweat
but in these tales of twin torment
like a rainbow that’s
always bent
is a truth that’s as
old as it is new
dear son, or daughter
– we love you.
ram & gayatri cobain
