August 13, 2002

Advise to a friend

your delicate pattern of antique lace
my blackened shroud to hide the inside
cover your body as you feel the pain
lighting you up
and calming you down
wishing you could go deeper
knowing if it took to long to find you
your bones might not remember how to tell your story

emotional scares
placed there by others
intended or not
left there to wear like hand-me-downs
not your size
or even your color
someone else’s style imposed upon your life
clothing you in misery
to keep you company when everyone else was gone

my mother cooked everything for us with love
placed in an old bottle labeled ‘cinnamon’
she pinched out just enough flavor to make it taste right
everything she cooked swam like rainbows in our bowls
always feeling nourished
fattened by her love.
sometimes you just have to focus
on the good

before - after