• a christmas gift for my mother~
    ps episode 3 of walking dead is coming …

she has always loved the sun and the sand
licked pristinely clean by the sea’s salty hands,
and so I came to prefer the snowflakes and the cold
something about never doing quite what I was told,

she has collections of maps, from mountains to skies
wrinkled with years of her practiced fingers’ refoldings
and though she tries to show me longitude from latitude
I am too adamant on teaching myself how to fly

but when I got lost in the sea of some sailor’s green eyes,
I checked for the charted atlas hidden back in her closet
secretly, of course, because she couldn’t know that those
scribbled instructions helped turn my sails to the tides

she has books of remedies for heartache and hurt,
half cups of apologies and extra teaspoons of prayers
and she once mixed me, shaped me, made me from scratch,
but still I stubbornly insist she doesn’t know how I work

although she has a way with cookies and glazes
and I have a way with commas and phrases
they sort of seem a little, a lot like the same
if you cut ‘em and bake ‘em just the right way

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