…and you hold yourself hostage, of a move to be made,
Well-meant farewell unspoken for every ‘she’ is a mind reader.
Sweet night kisses are traded for sore eyes, empty water bottles.
Welcomed changes of ‘happily ever-after’… postponed,
Until a womb worthy of your seed moves you, moves… with you.
… and you halt yourself for a moment to enjoy your toils -
Tasty recollections of hellos and goodbyes lived through.
Parture is the nature of growth – valedictorians handsome.
Talk to me baby, make me listen, make me believe, make me go.
Move to be made… make me heard, make me know, make me stay.