Poetry

Call Your Mom (a poem)

Your mom’s first tears

Throws the world upside down

Time running in reverse

A metamorphosis of status

Who is this person?

So human and vulnerable

Do I offer a shoulder?

A tissue? Advice?

It doesn’t make sense.

Mom’s don’t do this.

Mom’s aren’t in need!

Experiment: get the microscope

See beneath the veil of thick skin

What do I find?

Brittle bones and wheezing lungs

Slowing heart and thin blood

Who did this to you, Mom?

Only the mirror knows the answer

But our mirrors are covered with makeup

And so?

And so, we carry on smiling

At our mother’s tears

And pretend that they’re a river

That we can frolic in

Pretending that her kisses

Are for a child who didn’t break her.

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