Amai

You 

My mother, filling bathtubs and pulling up socks

Me

Your child, squealing from excitement, wiggling toes

You 

My mother? My maid? Not my skin 

Me 

Your daughter? Your Job? Not your skin 

You 

My own, packing lunch, saying goodbye

Me 

Your own, rushing out, waving hands

You 

Hearing my problems, laughing at my immaturity 

Me 

Knowing yours, giving you distractions with a curve 

You 

Packing memories, odd socks and strange clothes 

Me 

Hoarding sentiment, suitcases won’t fit you 

You 

In tears, your heart 8,899 miles, northwest 

Me

In tears, my heart 8,899 miles, southeast 

You and I 

A love, no explanation needed 

You and I 

No more questions, except 

How much longer?


For my Amai Esnuth, thank you for everything

The Bridge