Constructing a Dream


You take the cereal boxes away from their fate
and you fill them with purpose;
they come alive as trains, elevators,
sometimes an emotional mother

and as city is built in your youth and virtue
you seize it's possibilities; taking all the risks
to inspire an old moon to harvest great beginnings

I carried you once, 4 pounds of growing belly
my heart burned and I was alone
but not really

You stroked my maternal odds and made me something
each time I tried to convinced myself
I was better off dead

Now, I buy the family size boxes of cereal,
the ones with extra room
for seats and passengers who bear sons of their own;
sons who are faithful to the occupation of unconditional love

and because I am so clumsy and sensitive
I often crush the corner of the rectangular packages
before I get them home

You say: "Momma, I will use it anyway"
and I cry in private
as you go in your room and build us both a dream.

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