To My Future Offspring

Abstract

about teaching you what death is, or more likely, you finding out and asking me why, how, where we go then. I’m suddenly terrified of this even though you don’t yet exist in any sense. Right now I am keeping grief in small, manageable packets. I am quietly bewildered by potatoes I’ve forgotten, inspecting the sprouts in their eyes, feeling slightly foolish for not using them earlier. Right now grief is easily quelled: I take a knife to the growth, and life stays simple. to my future offspring