Let me love you, mama

Meerkat holding flowers

Let me grow with you, mama.

Let me love you till our last breaths. Until the last lights fade out and the skies darken. Let me be the bed of your dreams. The soft cushions on which you lay your tired head. I promise to bloom every night and day. When the rains come and the sun follows. And the rainbow is bright in the sky that once was gloomy.

Let me hold you when the world turns its face away. At you wrinkled skin. And your weakened knees. And before you falter at every step, I will be there to put the spring back in your step. I promise you this, mama.

I promise the world to you if it costs me all of it. I promise you life if it means my own. I promise heaven if it were across seven oceans, and twice more like it.

Let me take you through Ramadan, mama. Let me go hungry for you while you eat and you smile. Let me wake at dawn while you sleep and you rest. Let the world see you as the woman who bore me. Who loved me. Showed me the petals in life’s beautiful thorns. Held my fingers when I walked the first time. Made me safe when it was cold. Made me brave when it was warm. Held me aloft because I was the trophy of your dreams.

Here I am today with nothing but your face. A face that breaks my heart into a thousand shards of glass. Each too hard and too brittle. Each reflecting a part of me I wish you would never see. Each digging into my skin. I cry, and it is recompense for the hurt I have caused you. The love in your eyes tells me I am inadequate in replicating such adoration even in a millionth of its size. You wink at me and it is like a ripened fruit has fallen into my arms. But there are calluses on my hands. There is dirt and there is grime and there is blood from sins a hundred times hidden. And so the fruit of your womb rots. It withers. And when the wind brings the screaming clouds, it is only ash that billows out of my hand.

I am sorry, mama. I have failed you, mama.

I have caused you hurt. I have caused you tears. I have made you grey when the old world is still hay.

I will change, mama. I will make you smile again. I will be one you think of when the sun is a bright yellow-golden. And after the leaves sigh and the sky is a shaded purple. I will be the name on your lips, on your dying bed when I lie close to you. I will shed my blood as you shed yours. My hair will fall where yours wither. I shall grow old with you. I shall lie in bed with you. And we shall go into dreams and live them anew. I shall be your sleep when you walk through the valleys picking snails and cutting greens. You shall walk forever and feel no pain. You shall never age. Your days will never end. Your nights never cold. I promise you this and my life besides.

Let me love you, mama.

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