On the Day of Your Vaccination
We have shared
the same condominium
for a year and a half
now. Just you and I.
I watched your silence
and joy
to be near me,
as I did.
This pandemic gave
us the same liminal
space, each with our own
room, we missed each other
when you went to school
now we hold each other
the lines on my palm
going deeper as I see
the route of this destiny
to be together
when you should
have the liberation
of college which I loved
and you are deprived.
But this noon, you shall have
your vaccination
instead of being out
With friends. Now
I know why
I gave you the liberty
of staying south close
to friends, where you
chose to be with former friends
the way it never worked
when we transferred you
to an all boy’s school
Before the pandemic.
Sorry your dad had to
abandon us, and I smoke
which makes me strain
to reach for the car’s seatbelt.
I know, this is as much time
We can have together
I would ever admit to,
anyway. You grew up so
fast, lessons learned not so
much as e-learning but
just being with me.
I love you so much.
You must be strong.
And so, you are
in this most awkward
of loving, together
and yet shy
as you grow of age
when I married your dad.
It would have been a simple
process of growth if
it wasn’t for the pandemic.
You seem so tired.
I wait for you to come home
after your vaccination shot,
A towel to cool your forehead
some paracetamols
my bed for you to sleep in
smelling of me, the way
I smelled your blanket
when you go to school
way back
before the pandemic
changed the culture
of finding each other
in school, college,
work,
hearth,
and home.