1958

[blessurheart]

when you speak it is in foreign tongues
emulating my first taste of a honeysuckle
down the street from a school
that holds my mothers dreams
captive in pages of a marble notebook
with no perforation
makes it difficult to
take one home without
tearing at the spine
conveniently holding
together
the remains of her nervous system

why are her whispers louder than her screams?
why are her whispers louder than her screams?
why are her whispers louder than her screams?