the baby in her and me
where does one end and another begin? one day, i met my grandma as a baby, i’m not sure how or when it happened— i mean, i did glimpse the slivers of shedding over time: felt the soil beneath us shiver, the networks of mycelium unspooling underground— tenuous threads which unravelled, untethered i traced the liver spots clouding her membrane, dissolving into misplaced meals and names i spied the silver streaking across her eyes, ancient stones which no longer recognised my own —— that one day, the baby in me met the baby in her who forgot she loved the baby in me, who forgot how the baby in her once loved me as a baby— the baby in her and me —— she mumbles blithely to herself nowadays in a primal, forgotten language perhaps when one tongue is mislaid, another is made perhaps there is nothing to lose or gain i dab away the dewdrop in her eyes and bring a cup of warm milk to her lips i stroke her hair softly just as she did when i was a baby just as the baby in her once loved the ba...
