The cells of both your bodies started multiplying

each on a night when the moon was full

so now I hear your howling and shrieking

a wild duet that has the neighbors alarmed

but I take comfort

two voices remain and one hasn’t ended the other

rather, your mysterious silence alarms me.

Our living room is a primitive dance arena

your flailing limbs, knocking bones, and swirling hair

my body, your anchor for flinging, has ached for days

still, I will hold you

even when you cheat at mini-golf

even tomorrow when you, again, spill lunch on the kitchen floor

even when I must wrestle your faces clean

even when you write your own name for the first time and its in sidewalk chalk on your auntie’s driveway and my heart has melted into a puddle and is running onto the smooth concrete

even after you kick him and you bite her back

and even when your shoes smell of thick bogs growing

writhing microorganisms that make swamp gas.

I act like your toes gross me out,

but I secretly love when you stick them in my face,

they hardly ever stink- it’s just your shoes.

For you I have broken promises:

I cut crusts off bread

I serve popsicles for breakfast

I clean up your messes

I no longer clean my car.

My body bears scars from your origins.

You absent-mindedly pet the sleeping cat with your tiny fingers while we read the library books.

Your wild sticky spirits are at home chasing goats

up the ravine trails, through the basswood trees

together yelling louder than the six goats together

and though I am tired of running uphill

I will follow your shining faces

and at night when I wish you’d finally be quiet and sleep

we will all stay awake in the backyard catching one more

firefly and spotting one last bat fluttering

between the oaks and out against the dark, glowing sky

because the stars make you sing.

And when my beast-keeping day is done

I will fall into dreams of pushing you higher in the tree swing

and of the great wild places tomorrow

you will ask me to go.

But before I rest I must see

you, sleeping the deep sleep of untamable creatures

windswept arms tangled with blankets savagely fought,

sweat beaded on your noses, sleeping,

yet ready to pounce