a work in progress

Mid October, 2015. Dear Aru.

Dear Aru,

Chances are you, you won’t understand this.
But I’ll try anyways.

I’ve spent a day with you.
A whole day.

Then at 6pm, I had to go see a friend for dinner.
So your Papa took you round the back of the house so you wouldn’t see me leave.
Because that makes you cry. (Your head off).

And I just wanted a cuddle.
A little squeeze.
Because when I’d come back, you’d already be in bed.
My final squeeze for the day.

Your soft, soft cheeks.
Your tousled hair.
Your little arms.
The breath of you.
Your closeness.

But I couldn’t.
And I already missed you.

Can you believe it Aru?
Is that even possible?

We don’t even speak the same language.

So as I left, I went to the back gate.
And I just watched you and your Papa.
Watched you hold a branch to the sky.
Watched the sunlight touch your crown.
Watched you.
And you didn’t know I was there.

And then I tore myself away from you.
A little step.

How will I ever be.
The day you step away from me.

I like to kid myself and say that you don’t mean that much to me.
But I think we both know.
I’m kidding myself.

Wait for me to come home.


Your Maa.


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  1. Irit

    That’s lovely, darling.

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