Mom laughed and
quietly sighed
into her stomach.

She suddenly felt empty,
like a crystalline vase.
Fragile and clear.

Mom lets the car door swing open
across the slippery street.
Another "I love you" hits the radio
and we laugh, more than anything.

My dripping sweater
make poke-a-dots appear
on the carpet and the dashboard.
"I'll become like that" I said.

A soggy paper boat
floats in a puddle.
On an off-colored bench
I was alone.

Mom smokes her cigarette
alone in the dark.
She glows red and yellow.

Later on, we take our family portrait.
Having mom there
looks strange for some reason.

I saw Mom's breathe escape
that cold night
her shadow left mine.
"You'll become like that" she said

A soggy paper boat
floats in a puddle.
On an off-colored bench
I was alone.

Mom laughed and
quietly sighed
into her stomach.

She suddenly felt empty,
like a crystalline vase.
Fragile and clear.