mother you are so beautiful... gazing at me
walletsized
from the hug of my pine-framed mirror.
your handsewn promdress
icicle blue
draped over your ephemeral silhouette
his arm slung lazily alongside your thin waist.
did you know then how cold his words could be?
had he already begun to tie the marionette strings?
how often did you wear longsleeves in the humid summers?
did his storms remind you of grandpa?
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