I want my mother
at night.
When my body catches up with my mind
and my face unfolds from sleep so I can
remember every detail of the dream that woke me.

I want my mother
at night.
When I stumble from my raised bed to hers
two rooms down and to the left.
Her covers are better,
her arms warmer,
her breath reassuring.

I want my mother
at night.
When I lose my first tooth
and I don't know if the fairy will come
because I might have put it under my pillow too late.

I want my mother
at night.
When she keeps the light on in her room
while she reads the bills until the morning.

I want my mother 
at night.
When the shouting reverberates in my ears,
about how what we have is not enough
anymore.
How the crops are nothing compared to NAFTA.

I want my mother
at night.
When the days are getting longer

It's dark and cold. Like the deepest emotion emitting from your lifeless body
The roaring waves crash on the forbidden horizon, with every beat and drum like the endless sound of thunder
Light can't reach the bottom as it pierces through watery graves.

The sun sinks down into the deep...and slowly slips into a dark slumber.
Out of all the things the sea finds floating in the water, 
She hears screams that echo through the blasting night.

They tried to hide her...
They tried to seduce her...
They tried to own her...
They wanted to drown her...

The boat was full of despair and lust for this girl.
But they knew she was everything they could never have.
The brick was tightly attached to her delicate ankle as the noose was pulling her down.
Her wrists swelled at the itchy rope digging in her pale skin.
Her blushed cheeks puffy with tears and abuse.

Nothing could save her now.

 

Look at the stars, look at how they outshine you.

At the place where the stars kiss the ocean I’ll meet you

In that cramped space between layers of lashes and chaos.

We all try to win at our own loss…

If I’m meant to be planning your destiny, who’s planning mine?

Seems to me the naysayer with no spine, yet he finds

No purpose has the piper but to play

So let him blow wind between his teeth, while we say;


Fathom me as constellations.

Create a symphony of your thoughts of me-

Is that all that will be left of me?


Most of us don’t know where we’re headed,

So mumble to me the way of yours,

Until the tips of my ears are reddened

The musician will play in the background of our dreams

Of summer days spend hanging from our wings

When all I’d want to do was to count your imperfections