Madeline’s mom does not have the same glasses as Madeline,
though they share the same eyes.
She throws her head back when she laughs,
and points her finger too much.
Her mom takes all the breath in the room, swirls it into
cupcakes that dance the pink and baby blues.
People comment on her long nails;
the twist and turns of the road when she sings on the highway.
No one listens anyway with their soft tunes playing in their head.
They seem far away when they should be listening,
but maybe it’s just the time of day for lunch,
or for the counting down of choices.
Her mom twirls her key chain as a nervous habit,
though she is never afraid of what comes next.
She’ll order a grilled cheese sandwich, and tea,
but not too hot.
She burned her mouth once,
and she can’t let it go.
Header photo credit: Author
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