Monday, June 16, 2014

Between Mother & Father's Day

my father was born broken
didn't know his cracked heart
was only surface friendly
and shattered spaces indeep
he thought my mother was glue
the kind you roll on your fingers
wait and watch to stick
the cheap and pliable kind
it's true, she tried
but my mother was born reflection
with nothing on the other side
was only surface shine
and echoing spaces indeep


I am not glue to mirrors
I am not the other way either
I have only been reciting my favored phrase
I am not them
I am nothing more.

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