April 11, 2011

She.

She wipes pan. Breakfast plate, while dinner cooks.

She knows that supper pot, so helpful, will be burden. Thankful, and  worn. I loathe you. But thank you (hiss I hate you.)

The children have ice cream. Four more bowls. To clean.

Mommy why are you whispering?


Take care of yourselves- but need me!

She washes, she phone calls, she sets she folds she battles she finds

sigh sigh sigh


Fuller in the arms, hips round. I'm still breastfeeding, she excuses. Still breastfeeding. It will fall right off someday. Soft.

Remember cones next time.


They eat alone, together. She hides to breathe, to, the defeat in her eyes. Pleads. Let them only remember my victories.


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