Few summers ago I was off to college talking on the phone with my mama one night getting all caught up in the gossip and before our vocal chords met she quietly gasped and said.

‘Before my mind forgets know these arms sure miss you with mouths who don’t smile the same‘  

- Do I surrender or keep feeding our bloodstream beyond all shames -

Middle age sits high pulling my skirts
My thin bed with lines she wrote
Cotton sewing me to knot
Stitching chins the exact voltage’d words
Do you believe me tender physician
I touched bread and learned it sinned
It made no sound as it revealed my deaths
Delicate glassed heart quietly rusting with wait