Melanistic Magazine - Vol. 6 We Are Kings

Mother

by Affrica Spence

Mother. Mother of me. Mother of I. Mother of my heart’s rhythm. Pulse of mine. You gave me breath. Tucked me in and always obliged me pushing my luck with a “tuck me in tighter!” You’d smile. My sleep was one deserved by every child. Protected, as kiss goodnight promised me you. Hug me as I cry push me when I fall. You’ve seen the most shadowed parts of my soul and still looked me in my eyes until I’d come to. It’s you who taught me once, twice repeatedly that unconditional is a lifetime. That you meant it when you said nothing would ever stop a constantly consistent. battered but lasting, challenged but adapting, you and I. Each hug spelt that out. They say we don’t choose our parents but I’d sign my soul with letters of your name so that my next life would whisper you back to me. I’d choose you again. I’d will it into fruition and choose you again.