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Saturday, September 08, 2007

sinking into the sweet lavendar
of my mama’s purple pillow
it’s the best place in the house
to stare at the back of your eyelids
the soothing singing of the shower head
floats through the closed door next door
i know mama is inside preparing for
her favorite part of the day, almost time
to sleep,
to prepare her body and soul for the chore
of tomorrow’s striking resemblance
to today
my mother loves her bath time
“kill me kill me kill me kill me”
loud, tinkling voice bounces off the white tiles
it’s true that i can’t help but smile
it’s true, i always knew
the faucet turns, the water stops
i lift a heavy body from bed
steam rushes through the opening door
but just before my glasses fog
i glimpse the mirror, my own face flinching
in surprise, next to my mother’s,
warm and washed and well
i am her distorted echo,
broke up and kicking back same thoughts
“i’m goinna bed”
she gives herself to the sheets, the comfort
or the night
i flip the light

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this poem, deeply personal, reminds me of the conversational style of the poet Yusef Komunyaaka.He is a southern man who leaves no subject unbreeched in his rythmic art. This poem is moving and approachable. Descriptive and insightful.
A secret delight.
i agree entirely with camille.

i know writing is an immensely personal thing, but i miss reading you, alanna. and i know you've said you miss writing.

this gives me such an intimate, dear feeing. as if i could almost feel the steam from the shower.
i've read this poem several times since you posted it. i've been trying to think of an insightful comment, but it'll just have to suffice to say that i really love it. it's vivid. i felt like i was there.
i was just about to make a comment, only to find that katherine made one identical to what i was going to say. i love "goinna."
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