She lays there, a mirror, with her eyes like closed pistachios. I sip in her sweet breathe and try not to flinch, patient for her coos in between dreams. Behind my eyes, I play a scene back from 6 years ago; sitting at my mothers kitchen table with tears streaming down my face, I told her “you will never be the mom I needed.” I meant it.

And now holding _her_, I wear my mothers skin. I see throug...

She watches

From the corner of my eye

While I lace up my shoes

And rise from the bathtub,

Toes pruned, mind tired.

She waits

For me to be silent

So I fill up the air with junk noises

To keep her at bay.

She’s trying

To signal that someday I’ll join her,

My wings will fall off

I will shed

Like a monarch turned blue

Starving, drying out, crumpled

But patient.

She’s patient.

She knows that I’ll hav...