mother gather my thoughts
“momma, you can braid my hair tonight?”
i ask again as if i never taught myself to braid.
“i can buy you some more blue magic later on ”
as i scrape the last remnants from the bottom of the jar.
“you can take a break if your hands start aching.”
while i cup a dollop of grease in one palm,
and she gathers my thoughts into a bun,
and the tylenol stay just out of reach on the linoleum floor.
6 thoughts on "mother gather my thoughts"
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These snippets paint a picture! I can really see what’s goingon even though there are relatively few clues. I can feel the dollop of grease in the palm and hear the scraping of the jar. Wonderful details.
I love “gathers my thoughts into a bun”
came here to say this. what a wonderful line!
Favorite line: she gathers my thoughts into a bun,
The imagery here is insane. Maybe it’s the way that I’m listening to Comb My Hair by Pretty Boy Aaron/Bruhnice/Tesia right now (check it out if you haven’t) or maybe it’s the way you say ‘i ask again as if i never taught myself to braid’ because I FEEL THAT, but I love this.
I love the whole poem, but the last line is my favorite—it’s a dynamite ending.