moments of motherhood

like cutting the rest of the slices of a cake after letting someone fake the honors

(like waking up early to sew up the slits closed in your daughter’s dress

like piling plates high, reprimanding overeating with “i told you so”

like loving your daughter, seeing yourself in her

little background things)

it’s something we often say we share, the four of us:

loneliness

I know its true because I see it in myself, the servitude of others and silence thereafter

the tranquility of ones own company, but the warmth and glow with others

I’d love to see you glow

I wish we’d be able to be lonely together but that’s not quite how it works,

I’d love for you to be happy and fulfilled

Hearing the judgement in that one woman’s voice when you struggled to come up with hobbies in small talk made me want to punch her

I guess this is what love actually feels like,

sometimes I think I can guess or make it up or count on limerence but with you its the real deal

no thinking at all

And if I could suck all of the loneliness out of you and give it to myself I would in a heartbeat 

Because the way that I love you is unfathomable to me

How much it takes of my heart and my space and how much I’m happy in that

What would life be like if we both had more friends? 

We found comfort in the family unit

And if I were to ask you if you were lonely, you’d say no; you’re forever strong in your convictions

Or maybe you’d say yes—is it the truth?

God, that terrifies me

I’d never return 

my anger makes me feel outside myself

i pride myself on being kind, I emulate you or baba

or maybe some fictional presence i’ve projected

and yet I am filled with so much rage that I don’t know where to put

rage that i oddly can only show you—

even to myself its dull

you asked if I could write a list of things that make me angry about you, and you’d do the same

I said that’d get us nowhere, but mostly I just didn’t want to hear your list

The thought of you having a list of things you hated about me would destroy me, since I am your little girl

your little girl who hasn’t left your side since I arrived,

obsessed with you and distressed by your leaving

And the fact that you’d never describe me like that, that’s more of baba’s domain anyways, that too destroys me

I had to ask you to say I love you more, and two years later here we are

Teetering on rage and earth shattering love 

so I guess i’ll make you a salad, and we’ll eat it with the tv on 

while you wait for baba to call

what were you like before i met you?

what gestures did you get from me? me from you?

what were you like before i made you tired, and mad,

before you couldn’t get out of bed

before you were the peacemaker, way back when

before dad first saw you come down those stairs

did you expect me to be trouble? 

am i still keeping you awake at night? 

Still joined at your hip? 

Its funny, since now i look down and you are the one sewing us together

maybe we both got used to the warmth of closeness

of a conjoined perturbance and infatuation

i hope i still make you laugh

it’s the least i can do.