Visiting Hours are Over
So muscular and handsome, my boy is.
His hair is so soft and smooth. His legs are
so white and beautiful. The shape of his
feet are identical to my father’s.
My son’s feet were always cold, for his warmth
was always concentrated in his soul.
But I cannot leave…not now, not ever…
The moment I leave I will no longer
have a son. Right here, right now, I have come
to claim his body…I am visiting
my son…I -am his mother. As long as
I hold his flesh beneath my hands, he is
still here, with me, in the room, spending time
together. I love you, son…And even
though I, was your mother, You, were my best
friend. It almost killed me to bring you to
life, and now it is killing me to let
you go. I didn’t leave you then, and I
can’t leave you now. Son, even though you are
lying here motionless and weak to the
eye, give me the strength to Live! I want to
crawl up this refrigerated metal
slab and lie with you. I’ll sing you songs, and
read you bedtime stories like I did when
you were just a boy. Even though you’d sleep,
they were unforgettable times between
both of our souls. But I refuse to leave…
I just won’t do it…not now, not ever.
Copyright © 1986-2017
Alan Salé
All Rights Reserved
contact: AASalehi@gmail.com