Lingering...

her tears are mine

our liquid salt thicker than blood

thirsting like water for falling

seemingly apart at the hips

at the hands in the arms that are amnioticly rocking

birthing me back into her body

and in me she rains seedlings:

a lost rebel, a crafty trickster, a child mother

species of herself dissolving

my reservoir resolving to remember her

calling her mother on crutches a “bitch”

running from her in the alleyway and

skipping school to drink vodka with her sister and friends

smoking pine needles at camp and

patching her brother’s leg after he fell out the second-story window

this is no way for a mother to behave

i think and wonder why i thirst her story