I'm the kind of mother that faces the prospect of being away for 5 days with absolute dread: what if they miss me horribly? What if they don't miss me? What if my plane crashes and they are too young to remember how much I love them?
I feel like this (but where Fertig writes "girl" I'd be thinking both girl and boy):
Hungry Mother (by Mona Fertig)
This little girl is ours, this little girl is beautiful.
I could love her to death. Consume her like D'Sonoqua,
the wild woman of the woods. But my feast would be gentle.
I would hug and kiss her until she sank back into my flesh.
Like warm honey and butter on toast. Now I understand
why the witch wanted to eat Hansel and Gretel. That was
no fairy tale. Only the unfathomable side of my love.
My all-consuming hunger to be one again with you.
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