Ode to My Child

Ode to My Child
Morgan Gu

You exit me
a feral creature,
coated in thin blood and rancid honey.

I cradle you in my arms,
on a chair due north in the shades,
in fear that the careless moonlight
will singe the fondant varnish
off your pristine face.

I weep mutely at night.
The cotton wings of gypsy moths
whose harmless flutter
ceases abruptly mid July.
Filling your shallow dimples
my cloying tears

I watch you, half dreaming
in the rapturous restlessness
of your tender-taken breath.
My love, my faultless lamb
I must raise you a heretic
you were birthed in wickedness
but bear no sin but mortality.

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