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Poem: ‘Mothers’

I am floating, dreaming, contemplating

On a bed of lily pads and clouds

Surrounded by the dreams of children who never made it out their nightmares.

 

She is my muse,

Singing melancholy songs,

Nothing but sour notes and bitter, out of tune instruments.

 

I sit up and look around.

The water is a deep, clear blue color that stretches for miles,

No ripple in sight.

She stares at a painting with smooth brush strokes and harmonized shades of blue.

I yearn to shake, shout, scream.

I AM HERE. COME GET ME.

She cranes her neck and ever so slightly bobs her head.

 

I am running now,

Out of breath, panting, trembling, chest aching.

In the hazy shadows I make something out,

A drifting goddess with flowers in her hair wearing a chiffon dress.

The air smells like cotton candy and saltwater taffy.

 

She extends her arm,

I reciprocate.

Our fingertips touch,

A warm spark ignites.

It is almost like I was given fingers solely for the purpose of this moment.

This is how you and your mother met.

Do you remember the first time her honey skin engulfed you in an embrace that made you feel invincible?

glossy lips whispered stories of princesses and fairy tales and happily ever afters in your innocent ears?

worn out hands showed you what love was in the form of fluffy pancakes and a tart orange juice breakfast?

demons came out to play at 2AM on the bathroom floor, crying for mercy as they relentlessly tortured her with visions of losing you?

doe eyes spilled glassy ocean water tears over your first award, recital, goal?

 

You are the lucky daughter of the Moon, Sun, and stars.

She is the carnival on a balmy summer night and the millions of galaxies waiting to be discovered.

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