This is a letter to Aidan
Blossoming from the outside in,
As a star implodes on itself
Presenting only a black hole
Of loss filled with light.
I’m writing him to ask
For his words to touch paper,
His thoughts to be penned,
His files to be shredded.
How this clutter prevents
An empty stomach
Growling to be full..
I see him taller now,
And he thinks himself 100%,
But he’s a mere
half of that
And half of that.
It’s the lost half, that wires him.
Half black, half white,
But when the mother’s milk
Is missing who’s to hush
The stomach’s grumble?
Who’s to sing a subtle hum?
So there I stay,
Ever present, ever-loving
Pushing a star to growth,
Sending letters into space
To a star in supernova,
Waiting for his response.
Like messages in bottles
I pray my words reach home.
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