Likeness

Uncertainty is a journey for forsaken descent; we walk the same trance. Time matters to those who pretend. Men become ghosts as the women alike create temptation; what is the difference?

"You interest me...."

"Why is that?"

This human is small; this one I care for deeply.

"You are big....."

"You are small....."

"Where do you come from?"

"Wherever you come from is where I come from."

People projections, sad imitations for proud programmers, careless for our sake; this little one knows well. They celebrate holidays; product of absolute regret and shame. I wish not to be amongst them but the programmer does not care. The child sees them as water without proper molecules to create reality; I do not concern for them, I concern for this human standing before me.

A creation side steps our conversation to asks a numb question for the little one of failing numbers.

"Where are your parents?"

She looks at me intensely of intention.

"I am her parent. Please do mind your own business before I lose my temper."

"Oh yeah what happens if you lose your temper?"

"If I lose my head so do you."

Unfortunately I cannot recall ever being influential around children.

"My father is a black man."

"Really....."

"Yeah blacker than a panther at night."

"Does he move like one?"

"Yeah that's why he is hard to find."

"Who is your mother?"

"I don't know."

"Do you care to know her?"

"If she cares to know me. I need to know my father."

"What is a father to you?"

"Me......"

A strange beastly character supposedly a woman leans against me, hips between my legs; I unresponsively shock. Slump of a waxy film slides away from me; the figure bursts an ugly silicone puddle. The child bears a double tongued Zulu dagger from the land of freestyle and legends of freedom.

"Where did you get that from?"

"My father.....told you he was black."

"Oh really.......what is black to you?"

"Hhhhmmmm............"

She reminds me of one I know well; her left hand points a searching mouth.

"Is it a color or a culture? Is it a mentality or spirituality?"

"My father would know."

"What about your mother?"

"I don't know."

I am possessive of this petite human; the feeling is suddenly an obsession.

"Well you will come with me regardless of what black fathers may think."

This one is a straight faced attorney for nightmarish streets; I hope he can defend me, I am the object of much accusation.

"You seem defensive...."

"Yes I am."

"Should I be the same way?"

"No you should be aware. I am not as aware as I should be because I am scared."

"Why are you scared?"

"I am scared they will take me away from you and you away from me. I am scared they will take my friend away from me and me away from him. I am scared I will be lost again."

Spoken words touch this keypad denying my mind that which the heart climaxes.

"I'm ready for them."

"I'm not...."

"You're my father you know that don't you?"

"Something like that I suppose. I am your blood but I am not your idol."

"What is my mother?"

"A woman who looks for you everywhere and thinks lowly of me."

"Should I go to her?"

"Eventually...."

"What do you think she's like?"

"She is probably extraordinary and very beautiful. Either that or she is handsome and unique."

"What if she is both with probable cause?"

"Then she is a mystery for me."

"Like a dream?"

"Yes a dream."

"I dream of being many of me. Do you do that?"

"Yes I do."

"I know this one is my body."

"So do I."

"How did it get here?"

"The same way mine arrived."

"How is that?"

"We will need to find out."

"Where is my mother?"

"Waiting for you...."

"How did you two make me?"

"I am not sure."

"How can you not be sure. I am obviously here and there is a physical equation for making humans which two people contribute with intent to produce a child which in this case is me. How was I made?"

"I hope we cared for each other. I have a feeling about her and upon meeting you I admit I like her....."

"That's all you feel for her?"

"I am not sure."

"She probably looks for you too. I don't know if she likes you though."

"I doubt it."

"Why?"

"She wouldn't miss me or come for me."

"Why?"

"I wouldn't if I was her."

"Why?"

"It's too much of a risk and it's not worth the trouble."

"Why?"

"I am no good for her anyways and my memory will make her upset."

"Why?"

"I cannot recall who she is or what we did."

"Why?"

"I am not sure. Why is it that you worry for your mother and I?"

"I don't know."

Lucid comes and go; I desire her stay for the lion cub to play.