she has her father’s hands
filled with soft oceans.
i would lay next to him
listening to The Voice of Peace
salt-water-air filling the room
as i wrapped my small hands around his
(my body a fraction of an already small bed)
dreaming new worlds
which is where he is now.
when i take her hands in mine
i feel their salt-water-air.
i do not know what will happen to me
when she takes her oceans to her father
and leaves me ashore.
-grief | mother | ummi