From my mother

By Manwhore
January 26, 2012

Jonathan, my son 
So deliberate in all his ways.
Set apart, set above 
As he chooses.                 

When he laughs, 
It gently rocks the foundation. 
A quickening, 
Without warning,                                     
Therefore, no defense.     
A catalyst.

Makes his face like flint 
The strong one that I bore–
With no regrets.                                                                     
                                                                                      
(r.g.1999)

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