Our Mothers Gave Us Their Names
That quiet-ness,
middle of the night,
insomniac,
sleep as it gets bright
toss turn sides & back....
drift to afternoon wake,
stomach rumbles,
to an oven that bakes,
and is humbling.
The fall is a mind's wrap
of how the co-existence
leaves us in scrambles,
Our mother gave us our names,
and euphoria is always the blame.
Scrambling in dirt and even worse,
Limo carries another hearse
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