Did she put soft hands
Lacquered fingernails across her belly
Hide your growing presence under a large skirt size
Whisper to you in an educated tongue
Why she was abandoning you
Pass on this blues that hums through your genes
Come to me my melancholy baby
She squeezed you out three months early
Under antiseptic lights of a Bogota hospital
Buzz and heat of the incubator
Tubes in your veins, machine mother cooing to you
Sir name: sephartic wanderer
First name: popular hero on daytime radio
Mother: unknown
She signed herself out and disappeared
Come to me my melancholy baby
Cuddle up and don’t be blue
Did you cry for mother’s milk
Or were you a stoic infant warrior
Heart shaped scars keep intravenous secrets
Colombiano spirits daring you to live
I held you on your four month birthday
You, no bigger than my two hands touching
Come to me my melancholy baby
Come on my honey dear
While I kiss away each tear