you wait for something to come from the dark. Something to come out of the dark? No.
You wait
for something.
Some one?
I’ve been waiting in the dark for a life time, a generation. I’ve born you a granddaughter you will never know. Then again, I’ve never known you either. This relationship we have is so intimate and yet you’ve never known its heat, its groove. How deep it runs, how you haunt me, bring me still to tears. Now I have listless days with my newly born daughter, six months old. The past two have been amazing. Wake up, some crying the first day, the second lazy. It seems as if I had been talking to her all day.
All of you will never know her. None of you will and as cruel as that sounds, I want nothing to do with any of you, not uncles or godmothers or cousins or nieces. I do not care, this is the dark gift I’ve taken from our shared blood and I’ll put it between us and it will grow and I will fester it, I will tend to it, I will be ever vigilant to keep you away from me, from us, from this little bit of life I want to keep for my own.