i sit outsideon the stained cushionsthe striped, stained cushions
do not be a Stupidor take your skin for granteddo not bleach your hairor straighten…
My hand rested against my stomach.
I miss you,
How can you take time away from us?mother that you are,your each second is ours never yours…
I am a tortoise,oddly born from the wind-swift hare.
At 43, I finally understand now what my mother meant when she said to me every year, “You don’t have to…