your Somebody

my mother tells me
love
but, confesses not to understand
my thinking
“its all right,” i tell her
making a joke
and laughing at my own joke

she has made this
confession
often
enough that it has become
a part of our narrative
this is why
(i think)
i felt bad when last
she visited&
set my
house

in order

© Emerys Watchel, 2020 All rights reserved.

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