Builder
*from Creation Myth [#24]*

It is a timeless task, constructing you
my perfect friend
of all the sloughed off parts of me
I send my parts to you.

My fingers raw from bites and chews
shaping you from
the delicate excrements I treasure
in this new form that is you.

I wipe my brow with brown you know
that admonishment
would be the norm for this cruelty
of perversely natural you.

You are finished, stickily open your eyes
are born, I am Mother.
Smile, a smile? You stand, joints slide
and Brother, hugs me inside.
  • Simon Huggins, 4th September 2002