In remembrance of Mo

The darkest boy I ever saw
A newly hatched butterfly
I asked to touch your face
You let me
I asked to touch your eyelashes
I’d never seen such beauty
You chased and I ran
Circles in, circles out
Hopscotching and tincanwobbly
I held you in wrestled grips
And you loved me
And I loved you
A child’s love
Then an adult’s love
And you couldn’t stay
Because the world is fucked
But you’re here
Because you were there
And I’ll keep you here
Held close in thought
Little Mo


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6 Responses to In remembrance of Mo

  1. everay2013 says:

    This is beautiful 🙂

    • bloggingdame says:

      Thank you so much. I have been writing it for a year in my head. We lost him a few Christmases back and I’m still not 100% sure it’s there. But it’s too hard to keep working on it if you know what I mean. Maybe it’ll never be “quite right”.

  2. everay2013 says:

    Are poems ever finished? Auden was still tinkering with his early work late in life. I think that once you have put a poem out there it takes on a life of its own and readers will find things in it that you as the writer didn’t know were there. There comes a point where you have to let go. So what if the poem is imperfect? We are all imperfect and that imperfection is what makes it human and gives it authenticity. By the way is that you in the red dress?

    • Blogging Dame says:

      Yes-it is, Mo is on the balcony and my younger brother is in the foreground. Thanks very much for the kind and very true words x

  3. very moving and true always in your heart

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