I swear I dreamed you up and
That you are really made of starlight.
When you sleep I reach out and connect our
Constellations, just to be sure there are no kinks.
I measure the sharpness of your face and
Wonder if you will be the opposite of me:
A force, a light that others are drawn to like
I am drawn to you. Will you believe in God?
You can believe in anything you want to.
My love for you will never be measured
By your accomplishments.
I am your Mama, Beautiful boy,
long hair or short, ink on your skin,
a painted face, a red dress, on sunny days
and in a rainstorm.
Show me your teeth and your fists
And I promise, I’m your Mama then, too,
Still checking our connections.
There is no conditional love here.