dear mommy,
you are a tall, one-splenda latte, a 5'8 latte to be exact.
at 7 am, the sun is golden and seeps through the windows in a sheer cascade,
punctuated by the drifting dust of a Turkish rug.
you greet me with a hug, dancing and regaling daily tales of the dog,
and then proclaiming "i've already had my two cups of coffee" when I look at you like you’re crazy.
you guard your children with elephantine wisdom, the grace of a spider, and the fierceness of winter.
i know you were scared to leave me behind and
i know it broke your heart when you saw me in the bathtub,
but you are the brightness of morning and i've never seen you cry.
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