I think about you today, the mother of the girl I love. The girl from whom I learn about the mother I may have been. The seeds of that woman that lie still inside my untried womb and unmatched chromosomes.
|Someone's mother cools down in the pool|
I think of you and wonder at this mothering that requires it all. Love is not enough for this story. DNA, that's the thing. Placenta. Months of that solitary confinement tucked high and deep between the hipbones. The time before knowing. Just the carving off of cell from cell, dividing and becoming. More of her. Her own perfect self. A journey that opens the umbilicus between you from microns to metres and more. Time, distance, experiences and she is less of you and more of her by the hour.
But you were there. There you are. Always there, from the dreaming before there was a beginning. Mother. Creator. Eve. You were there as you will always be in the shape of her face and the tilt of her head. You gave her everything, face, form, voice. You are there and you will be there beyond the end; traces of you fused into bone and memories inhabiting the animal brain that endures beyond knowing.