My second boy
skin of dark apricot bamboo
after you left, I promised wind never to forget your eyes
to carry an ocean in one's heart
to spend one's whole life watching it leak
arms pretending not to need
I am thinking of that sweet boy's chest prussian blue
how it rose and fell rolling faint against my fingertips 

Once a rainstorm called me bitter
I whispered in her ear, no
beautiful mother.

Cheryl Boyce-Taylor

Issue 17 • Spring 2016