Speech Crush

echolalic, then in similes,

by the lake,

where the sticks were her

long mosquitoes, her lava

pyramid brown rice.

Got a crush on a suffix,

giggled, blushed,

at every -tion. And there were

many, in conversation,

flirting with her.

Pre-dejection.

Pseudoabstraction.

As she grew into

orchestration, a white

sport coat and a pink

carnation, crenellation,

inhalation—

had I known

too much lamentation?

I, who have lived

isolation, seen sun

as lion,

its mane’s

diffusion; offered her

a turnip moon,

close-shaven.

Parental anomaly,

weird shared ions.

A word-prescription.

A nerve-ending infatuation.

I’m blessed

she’s the termination of me,

last blood relation.

Daughter, if you follow land

to its suffix, there’s ocean,

which I know your toes,

bare, still-growing, slim,

will never shun.