Mother-Art

There comes a time

Where my voice ends

And yours begins.

I build you

Create you

Form you from

The soil

Of my own

Undoing.

Strip from my bones

To structure

Leech from my blood

To nurture.

I build you

Of myself.

Colour you in,

With what inspires me.

Flavour you

With herbs

that remind me

Of belonging.

Draw enough of you

That you have

Substance

Sufficient

To know

How to know

When to draw

your own lines

In sand.

Give you body

Give you breath

Give you mind

And milk

And mornings.

Give you name

Give you place

Give you time

And touch

And sleepless nights

All this

Only to step back and say

"Here is where I end

And you begin."

An unfinished canvas

Equipped with

Enough of me

To live art

And tell

A story

That

Is

Not

Mine.