I have allowed myself to peer into a future and that was my great mistake.

To imagine a room of sloping sun, lighting a face
That I’ll hold and marvel, at your long lashes or
Fragments of me in the cheeks I thumb across,
Blooming infant. And another that will 
Fling an embrace around my leg, tiny shoes 
Still on, announcing the entourage coming home:
A screeching princess straddled around your neck,
Tired but gentle ride. To build up a shuddering 
Mirage of a place and to populate it, that
Was my great mistake in this lesson of grief.

The future is a cupped handful of water, leaking
And spilling and shattering the smooth surface
So that I cannot see myself in it. I can only
Spectate your happiness. In your room and 
Your sun and your army of trouble makers, 
Where will I be? To want more, to hope devastatingly 
And pledge these hours of tears, to fester in 
The desire to see, was my great mistake.

What I have instead, I ask to never forget. 
In the future I am a ghost, but now I am flesh
On the dark floor, uncomfortably pressed 
Against the unresponsive contours, watching
You. Both of us clumsy on the island of clean tiles
Scrubbed prior: we thought 3 by 5 would be enough.

Now I am flesh, cramped up in the backseat,
Too much leg, feel our tiny world rock like a boat,
A reminder that we are on uncertain land. 
Please do not forget this, while I am here, 
Flesh and blood and the only way to unsee me 
Is to close your eyes. 

Open your eyes again and I will still be there. 
Again and again. Till some uncountable days
Later, some complacent years later.
Only then, I will make my mistake to wish to
Prolong my tenancy in the house of your heart.