At bedtime, you pull orange curtains close
around your head. Sun hair mom, the only
nickname I’ll ever love. I’ll be candlelight
until I’m not.
You will invent
electric unseen futures, make light flood
your own rooms. Your eyes flicker even now;
currents move in you that have no name.
Julietta Bekker (she/they) is a writer, educator and illustrator who lives with her family in Portland, Oregon. Her poetry has been published by Pile Press, Bitter Melon Review, 7th-Circle Pyrite, Seedlings, Querencia Press and Oyster River Pages, and is forthcoming from The Dread Literary, Gather, and The Inflectionist Review. Her work incorporates elements of the natural world to explore political and social themes through the lens of a queer parent.