Oyako Donburi
Pea Flower Tomioka
To my dragon makers , breathing fire into the world Birthing creativity shorn from colorful bolts Tiny wings unfolding themes designed to inspire the children who need dragon levels of protectionlearning to love themselves despite a world that refuses to accept them .
You are no less Khaleesi for the stillness of your sewing machine . You are Mother of Dragons , no matter how many you sew , because the weight of the mother role is never measured by how many children you produce ,
but by how well you love them .
To the mother without Struggling to hold per passing years in empty armfulswatching the wonder through the lens of science and the humanity of it is reduced in shining instruments and waiting rooms with expired magazines . The act of creation feels less personal when it ’ s so clinical , and you ’ ve been told that the path to motherhood is supposed to be messy . Messy sheets , messy kisses , the eagerness of exploration for more messy thingsa sensory delight across the dancing surface of our tongues .
But that first kindled flame lost to the failure of science ’ s shining promise brings a wreckage in uncertainty and personal shame , and you spill the tears and the blood- Each cramp a bullet into your heart because feeling this death is messy And the anguish is messy