Oh sweet girl, what I wouldn’t give

to spread out my madness

like a map before you, to take

 

your small hand and guide it down

the divergent paths of blackness

and light. Sweet girl, they spread

 

across the page of me, contained

only by the borders of this world and

the loamy depths of the next. Do you see

 

the snaking hills and valleys, like a river,

like a heartbeat? This is our bloodline,

sweet girl. These are the veins

 

and arteries drawn upon us, etched

into our brains in cords and synapses; lines

of our collective family palm. Each

 

contour contains a history; mauve-lined

walls and wonderland pills

that so quickly lose their luster.

 

My sweet girl, I would let

myself to bleed a thousand seas

if just to fold the record

 

of me into a paper boat

to sail you off the course heading

towards such unrelenting shores.