I love you

meant trouble growing up

meant forgive me for your punishment,

for my failures.

It takes extremity

to utter extreme words,

so I still know nothing

of the night of my birth

but what’s on my certificate.

6.14pm, Women’s Memorial,

weight, length, footprints.

I almost asked her

to tell the story,

any part,

but she no longer knows

where she lives

or who these people in her house are.

So I smile weakly

into the phone

and whisper

I love you.