Syn Kronas


When I was saltwater,
The moon pulled me like the tides.

They called me a moocher – said I was mooching – they named me Moochie

My un-gendered pre-gendered, freely just a human being name. Before David, and Elizabeth.

Blessed with love, admiration, and cellular memory, I grew.

I slurped electrolytes, licked my lips, and got a taste of the sun—through you.

But I still dwelt in the realm of the moon and the tides. And you held me as I grew in the warmth and the shade.

Embryonic gentility cradled my small body. Action was still unknown to me.

The growth came naturally in the dark, like a meditation. Like the universe.

We were miraculous growth together, you and I —

We were the sun and the moon, you and I —

We were divine creation and cell division in gestalt, you and I —

The washes of electrolytes sparked my interest in food, and I grew.
Part II

Soon, I was large. I did not realize before this that large might be a concept, but 6 pounds 7 ounces resting in the suspension inside another begins to feel large.

I passed up June 28, 1986, the first anniversary of the Firebird, of your first date

Instead I chose to arrive in time for the regalia of fireworks five days thence.

I chose a Thursday – because long weekends are always better – and this one to celebrate independence. My birth marked the same.

I wanted to see the fireworks, and I wanted to be the first announced from the speakers of a ship: “Peter! You’re an uncle!”

I want to grandma and pop all to have their full anniversary dinner. They took the long romantic stroll back from the city for two hours, unaware that that might be missing anything. Still in love. Still exploring.

After this year, I would still co-opt most years afterward, believing, as everyone told me, but the fireworks, the agate stone, and the cocktail reverie were all from me.

Those same fireworks highlight both the light and the shadow. This is my birthplace.

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