I am not a mother
but I have fished
a killing cashew
from mushy maw
balanced a squirming
puddle of dough on
bony boxy hip
wept
over an economy
seat back tray
your summer blonde
strawberry ringlets
cannot be brushed
across this ocean

⋮°˖✧𓆩✧𓆪✧˖°⋮

Author's Note: I moved out of my parents' house at 17, traveling across the pacific ocean to what felt like the other side of the world, leaving behind a sister who is ten years my junior. Fortunately, we are no longer separated by an ocean, and are now quite close. 🩷