Mama, is there any doubt that I was?
When I stand above two stories
My face turns purple too.
My life began with your entwined, stopped it,
You never said, but I knew
I watch you in my mind, Mama
You were raised on Grandpa's knee
And there sit you still
Holding him closer almost to choke him with the love
And replace that tar lingering when you leave him
Tissue paper skin that you do not challenge to blot tears with again
Is there anyplace for you to hold them now?
Mama, you will leave me too someday
I washed the dishes for you when you left today, at least.
Mama, mama, mama is what my soul spoke so quiet to me
Dish water wrapped my hands, boiled them with you,
With what you have done
Mama, just a child, so afraid with the embodiment
Of an innocence that never leaves
The power we do not have to ever grow up
At 38, you should not have become a mother
When you were such a little girl