Not all mothers are loving.
Not all grandmas are kind.
Maybe DNA can’t carry hate;
deep toxins can torture small minds.
Damage so common needs careful respect.
Shared bleedings may lead to connection.
Expand brain and heart:
forge far-reaching art. Spite
blighted start. Embrace concentration,
consecration to a sane desire.
What would that require?
Can I entice a widening gyre?
neural ecstasy, words of heresy —
whatever fantasy corresponds with relief.
I would be honored to dwindle your grief,
devour your fear, sweep your road clear,
apply tinder to kindle our fire.