Erin Danhi
20 May 2011
Take
When you are but two cells in your Mother’s belly,
I will touch and turn one black.
Before you form one wholly human feature,
Before you are you, I will take you.
When you are blowing bubbles in your yard,
I will become the breeze.
Catch the biggest bubble and carry it to the street,
With a screech, I will take you.
When you’ve sunk into your last depression,
I will become the bullet.
A smooth gift of permanent oblivion
In my metal jacket, I will take you.
When your crow’s feet deepen as you look to your past
I will become the sleep.
I will close your eyes and set your smile
In total peace, I will take you.
First Draft – written 15 March 2011
When you are but two undecided cells in your Mother’s belly,
I will turn one black.
Before you ever form distinguishable human features,
Before you’re you, I will take you.
When you are blowing bubbles in the yard,
I will become a breeze.
Catch the biggest one and float it to the street
With a screech, I will take you.
When you are in your most excruciating depression,
I will become the bullet.
Smooth and filled with promises of peace,
In my metal jacket, I will take you.
When your crow’s feet deepen in satisfactory reflection
I will become the sleep.
I will close your eyes and set your smile
In total peace, I will take you.