 
 
There are two of you,
Training ground for how to be
Both whole and fragmented.
I am me but I am also your mother.
I belong to me but I also belong to you.
There is enough of me for a multitude,
But sometimes, I am barely enough for myself.
The moon goes through phases –
New, waxing, full, waning,
With some quarters and halves in between –
So is the trajectory of my love,
The heart that empties,
Knowing it will grow full again.