On the Birth of the Third in Line

By Dr. Niama L. J. Williams

for the little one
for his posterity

what have i lost
as pages close
as the glance from the east
finally turns away?

the detective
he whom i have always been able to trust
urges, whispers
words denying a grasp on the past
warning against a grasp on the past

a grip too tight
strangles.

and i realize the brown eyes
living in my soul for decades
a light from eight years old
thirty-five years old

a brown gaze
freeing libido
encouraging countenance sure of prowess
of sexuality, of sweat
of female cum

the gaze now cold
his guilt at absence so long,
and the damage done,
winner.

like william and harry
i am hit, but march forward.

like all who lose a parent head of state
i keep chin up
plot my revenge in private
with grandmothers, mothers
siblings who understand the unique pain.

the day of claiming my true father’s heritage shall come
but i move forward
happy for the duchess
and the prince
and the great-grandmother

for when assassins strike
be they reporters or gunmen
the true vengeance is moving forward
prospering
new birth
continuing the line.

my children will be masselinks and shepherds
my husband behind God’s veil

for i have loved again
since that brown gaze
and i have known orgasm
and passion

anew.