he loves deeply
is feral-angry
cries rivers
Tag: magic mama
the truth of it
words are fraying tethers.
the other mother
Her snail’s pace is patience, thrumming
through the rooms where I try to exist.
For Him.
It all happened in an instant, just like the lightning rush.
preservation
inches from the nowhere drain
anxiety as a chair
the thought of it being anything other than a chair scares you.
I have a confession to make.
Is every day perfect? Absolutely not. Is it good enough? Better than I expected, even? Yes. Yes it is.
take care of you first, mama.
You don’t have to get dirt under your fingernails to be a good mother.
the year our children grew in isolation.
He’s this whole entire other person and it’s happened in secret.
passerine
like placing paper / to the flame.
Magic Mama 