In that cold room

I knew who you were before we met,

even as strangers still,

my fingers sometimes danced with your hands,

or feet, or elbow bends,

what ever it was,

you used to celebrate living.

It seemed alien, charting your movement,

in the body of your known world,

a spread map of the kicks and rolls,

that first seeded, a love before sight.

With an arm draped over,

your mother’s new heft,

I stopped breathing,

When I first felt a stir that wasn’t her,

she would laugh,

and we would talk for hours.

You were on your way,

while I was barely hanging in there,

dipping into the strength I’ve been saving,

for this strange moment,

just so I would not be swallowed,

by the gravity of what comes to be.

In that cold room,

warmth came from the three of us,

some sort of light that isn’t seen but felt,

you were introduced to me while still tethered,

I lost my breath then snipped....

My arms, needled with electric pins,

trying to function enough to lift you,

a small boy with my face, and

a light copper ring around his head,

the crown laid by the hair of his mother.

I feel so overwhelmed by you, I crumble,

each and every moment I look into that ocean,

that washes towards me,

from behind your eyes, while I hold you.

My small, tall man..

My shadow, my body, my bright boy..

My tag team wrestler, my mimic, my sidekick, my joy.

I was born to be your hero, your guard, your vengeance,

to teach you, to annoy you, to tell you to stay on the couch,

or "stop jumping!" in my gravel voice,

just seconds after I last told you...