You dreamed of Nobody as a boy.

To have a father

seas away is to have a father

with every rain.

Nobody is a stranger who created

your world. Your home.

Your mother’s looming calm.

When she kisses Nobody’s name

into your cold forehead,

it is with the heat of papyrus burned

for Athena, this prayer

lives in your name. May you shoot

the arrow that lands

on his ship. May you be strong enough

to pull him home.

You will be a warrior when left

alone. Somewhere,

Nobody dreams of a son, hums this song

into a tale. He sings

to witches and boars who are men,

a sapling is in need

of water. Who would deny him, me?

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