Mother

“Mother how strange that I was once an unseeable creature swimming in your body’s ocean, rocked to sleep by your heartbeat rhythm
how strange that we are
far apart as islands now
Mother when I was younger
you were my everything,
life devoid of you
a potential too dark
to imagine
I used to press my face
against cold windowpanes
in dire anticipation of
the sight of your car sailing down a river of asphalt
coming home to me
your sweaters were soft
and smelled like safety
Mother I no longer wait
for you like I did then
I wear a silver pendant
around my neck
to remind me of you
Mother they tell me
I look like you
Mother do you remember
when I was a dim constellation
in the salty fluid universe
of your womb
I wonder if you whispered
old stories and sayings to me,
hummed to me
when we were alone
I wonder
if I heard you”

—	if you lived here, you’d be home