Your child floats
above you like a kite,
umbilical cord string chaos
like the wing that you are.

I want to reel them in for you,
to fight the wind
and collapse them in
like stacked dominos,
perfect circles
that never topple over.

Your innards are desperate
for your attention,
they say as they dangle
above you like
a fickle skyscraper.

and you find a way to
skydive off of them
into yourself,
your parachute
falling short each time
to start the process
all over again.