I will watch

Three circles on his back
Each for something he is
And something he is not

The first, he is
A dreamer
The ethereal creature floating on a shoulder of clouds
Carrying wonder and wisdom and whisking children away

The first, a partner
He dreams to be but he cannot manage
For he has lost one, two, then three
And does not want to see another one go

The second, he is
A master
Of beauty and pain
Who wields sharp words that cut and dismantle
But when melted heal and mend
And regrow

The second, a father
For which he replaces, but he is not
I remembered today
When my blood trickled thick inside my thigh

The third, he is
Tortured
By memories and fears
Haunted by needles and motel rooms and slamming car doors

The third, broken
He will never be
He will thrive and I will watch
Quietly
So as not to disturb him

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