I signed up for
petit bateau, ciné-goûter
hallowe’en
cakes smeared over birthday faces,
tantrums
I had expected
sleepless nights, doliprane
dentists and long years of braces,
girlfriends
guessed there would be
skipping school, attitude
hard-slammed doors in teenager wars
no prisoners –
so be it. so be these
sweet sacrifices as predicted:
the glory of the gift of self
unconditionally granted.
but some young
do not fly the nest
suckling at their mother’s breast
long beyond
her intended milk;
suckling until
nothing else is left.
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