Laughter squeezes out of my mother like she’s a lemon, and I watch

As the tissue paper covering her eyes

Fluctuates into a constellation of veins created to give her solace.

Her soul shakes with mirth, covered in skin with folds like the river lines on a map;

Happiness pools into the creases as I grab a hold of her hand.

Her smile is bright, yes, but her cheeks more so—

They have a rose-honey combination, with freckles

Like little suns that smile at you.

She opens her eyes and her heart at me, and I look at her in awe;

For she is the strength that I draw from and the strength that I hope to become.

She is the sunflowers smiling on an overcast day.

She is the anklets chiming to Nature’s song.

She is my mother.

She is the universe wrapped into one person,

And in and unto her I find my everything.