From her unworn graduation gown
Mother sliced butter cubes
to smear on a quilt for you.
With a year’s worth of our market copper
she axed matchstick bars
to raise a manger for you. You,
leech of the umbilical cord
who siphoned her of nutrients and
minerals, gemcut, to
quarry the family genes
of rare lapis rather than
accept Mother’s coal eyes.
Dried wax seals your lids
blinding you
to the sight of Mother
nightgowned in a medley of
lily sleeves and rosebud pleats
asleep in the casket
you in the basket
of my woven limbs.
I lay you down to rest
tucked in our manila
mother’s enveloped arms.
Avalon Felice Lee is an Asian American Californian. Her prose and poetry has been published in Right Hand Pointing, The Incandescent Review, Parallax, Plum Recruit Mag, Kalopsia Literary Journal, Minute Magazine, The Museum of Pop Culture, and elsewhere. Currently, she is listening to evermore and Haydn.
Комментарии