Magpie

When C gets upset. He cries

And says go. Or how when.

I don’t go. Sometimes. How

Sometimes. He lunges at me.

His hands flying like the wings

Of a swooping magpie I say.

To my mother. Later. When

I try to explain it. How it is.

Because his hands are his

Words. Fingers and wrists

Like syllables. Or how it is

Like he is guarding the nest

Of it. A feeling that is there.

Inside of him. Inside all of us.

But that he has no way. Has

No way of telling me about. Or

How my mother asks me what.

She asks me what does C do.

When he says go. And I go.

And I say he lays there or how

He is upset until. Until he isn’t

I say. And my mother tells me

That it is normal. How children

Get upset. And I say yes or how

Maybe. That maybe he will be

Stronger because of this. The

Doing it alone. Because he has

So little. So little words he can

Say. And I say words like self or

Soothe. Words that do not help.

Because they are not his.

Or because I am his mother and

When it happens again.

I do not go. Even when

He tells me to. When he says go.

I stand still.

A few feet away. Watch him cry.

Whisper I am right here. Or how

I inch my body across the room

And when he throws his magpie

Hands towards my face. Chest.

I say okay. How it is okay. Until

I am next to him. Sitting next to

Him. Our arms touching length

Wise. And I wait. Our arms like

That. Touching and how he is

Suddenly throwing his body

Across my body and he is.

Positioned diagonally or like

A shield. Which is opposite

I think. Than it should be and

With his face pushed up. Up

Against my face.

Against my neck.

Or how his mouth is positioned

Near the part. Part of my throat

Where the box is. Where. Where.

My words become sound. The

Sound of this. The two words

I am saying now. How I am saying

I know and I know

Even though I don’t. Don’t know.

Because this is what it is.

To mother a child

Who cannot say or tell me more.

How I know. And how I do not know.

All at once. Or how. When it is

Night and I lay in the darkness.

My body growing hot from fear

Of what will happen and to him.

Growing hotter like this Earth.

And I am thinking about a city

In Iran. The one with the name

Safi Abad Dezful. Where the

Humidity dropped to almost zero.

How it was 0.36 percent and how.

That is almost nothing. Nothing.

And they say that if you cry there.

If you cry in the city in Iran called

Safi Abad Dezful. Your tears will

Dry before they reach your lips.