The stories on her skin

person holding fruit
Photo by Matthew T Rader on


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

Melancholy restoration,

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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: