This poem is for my daughters.
I have three.
"The Name."
Be natural, wise as you can be, my daughter.
But my name be in your flesh I gave you
in the act of loving your mother.
All your days, her ways.
The woman in you brought from sensuality's measure, no other.
There was no thought of it but such pleasure all women
must be in her, as you.
But not wiser, not more of nature than her hair, the eyes
she gives you.
There will not be another woman such as you are.
Remember, your mother.
The way you came, the days of waiting.
Be natural, daughter.
Wise as you can be.
All my daughters, be women for men.
When that time comes, let the rhetoric
stay with me, your father.
Let me talk about it, saving you such vicious self-exposure.
Let you pass it on in you.
I cannot be more than the man who watches.