It is inevitable
to feel so small
on a front porch;
black and bright
sky stretched wide.

i grew spines
when one was never enough.

You created a shallow place
Where memories should pool deep
But none are kept to admire

You created love
That was a fleeting feeling
A dream to burn my eyes when I woke

You created a thing grown
That still occasionally stings
As it explains
Who was my mother's daughter

She loves his body
The way it fits just right
against her lips
And she kisses each rib
As a thank you
For holding him in it

when the end comes
if we have an after
promise we will
spend it together

If love can be a habit
I can be the nail
that you bite
with an absent mind

the mess inside my head
is as tangled as my hair
on your monday morning pillow