my father
certainly isn't the best cooks
in fact, he's one of the worst
but when he does cook i sometimes do
try to pass by the kitchen door occasionally
because i love that look of him all greased with sweat and oil
it makes everything feel so real
it makes me feel like my father isn't just someone who wears suit and tie
fills cheques and comes home with pride
it makes me feel like my father is there, vulnerable and honest

my mother
is a woman with her thoughts all wound up
a mouth that always
speaks for herself and for others
and sometimes i hate the way she speaks because she speaks too much
and hate is such a strong word
but her words are just as strong
so strong that i fear one day
i might not hear those words again
because her daughter, like her,
has a mind like hers
with all her thoughts wound up
but unlike her
hasn't quite mastered the art of speech

and perhaps
her daughter's art of speech
is not being able to say her i love you's
but she tries, she tries everyday