your eyes, blue-green, melt lovingly
like a mother.
When you are gone, I gaze
at your caramel maryjanes,
picturing the way you wear them
with mulberry stockings because
you don't like to match.
Your belongings are modest
the way you keep them around you like
a servant glad to be given a room
and trying to stay out of everyone's way
independent girl, you never asked for me,
the one who whines
when you're gone too long.
Yet you love me dutifully,
with joy, like i'm an accidental child.
you coo in thanks when I
surprise you by hanging up all your clothes
I wait for your return home
so I can watch the slow way you move,
how gently you close the door.
Because tonight I am feeling
the way you must
when you curl
in fetal position on the bed,
allowing yourself to grieve in silence
for all you are without.
tonight I feel that weight, like you,
as if tied to stones.
Soon I'll hear your comforting murmur
a sound of calming reassurance
that only those in pain
can possess.
Your soothing words.
Echoing through the thick forests within me,
quiet enough to be heard.