I am Handing Off My Children

I am handing off my children
to you. Yes, you.

Her burning lamps, fire hoses,
massive dogs, Deathly Hallows,
spring beauty, conch tattoo

His nose scratch, snowboard air,
peanut butter, Poe rib-quote, fractal dreams,
archaeologies of digital sound

His preschool tortilla recipe, flawless cookies,
sunset-from-the-stupa gaze, Mannaz ink,
poleless skis, dog whisperings

They have secrets you don’t know.
I can’t tell you. Earn them.