Amma

i dont want a baby

because i dont want to force her to go somewhere she doesn't want to go

i dont want to

disintegrate her

into 'what i want' and 'what i can have'

i dont want to bury her real voice

somewhere under my love soil

airtight

when she's gleaming

with the kind of radiance that can't be taught

i don't want to be the reason she hides

i dont want to be the reason she

romantices her solitude

because that's the only place where she won't be scoffed at

for being a big girl

with big girl dreams

and big girl opinions

i dont want a baby

because i don't want my bad days

to hang heavy in the air

and make her afraid after she's just made

her first peanut butter sandwich

but if i do have a little baby

i'll teach her to fly

and spend a lifetime building her

a worldsized trampoline

i'll tell her how pretty she looks

when she rolls out of bed in the morning

her hair all tangled

and her eyes well rested

i wish i had a mother like me