Where do I begin with these stains on my mouth?
To talk about myself what I have lived
I am holding up like a cardboard cut out
a standing melting pot of flavor
Raw turmeric and lemon
My mother gave me lemons for the basket on my head
I’ve turned her wisdom into cabbage soup
A soup that is poured into my dreams at night
The heat comforts the empty gaps
Of maternal love
Where do I begin. Tracing back steps
Finding myself through my mother’s words
Finding my mother through her eyes
and the stories on her skin
I watched my mother exit windows
through childhood and come back in the morning
I watched her turn mud into breakfast
Where do I find time to thank her for me?
How do I turn the tears into prayers?
wish for my mother’s recovery
How do I
Recover for my mother
Where do I start the quest to return her lemons?
Mother I am making you the lemonade
you promised me
Mother I am finding you
the words tattooed on my tongue
I am healing with soft sage
Practicing how to hold your fire in my hands
So that I can come home