Kitchen Talk

Into the arms of my mother my heart tumbles.

She washes the dishes, her back to me now

But she sees me, this I am certain of.

I am penciling a half cup of oil, two eggs.

The words on the cards stir together and get blended with my tears.

Why am I crying? Maybe because college is right around the corner

Maybe because days and nights without her is too much to bear.

Maybe because now I realize I am an adult. Only adults go to college, right?

No more childish ways, right?

Focus! I think to myself, because I fear she will discover my heartache

13 or 23, I should know by now she sets her eyes on the inside

She knew before I sat down near her.

She comes from behind and wraps her arms around me like a veil.

And my hearts melt because they are the arms of my heroine.

I didn’t know this until now. 23 year old me is seeing mom in her true light,

My everything.

As a child, I didn’t know her heart beats meant so much to me until

I turned around and listened once again.

I am alright, really I am for in the arms of my mother mixed with

Scents of dawn dish soap and Japanese Cherry Blossom perfume

I am safe.