Mama used to sing on those stuffy days
when a storm locked everyone inside...

A light flickers on,
reflections taint soil...

Where can I move where you are not near?
I skip through the fair, hands groping air...

You are my miracle child
a letter of stainless ink...

1. I sculpt the eternal Heavens
with the palm of my hand...

Around the river bend she twirls...
wondering when the trace of dawn...

My pleasant December,
Oh, how I greatly miss...

I never carry tote bags and cherries
strutting the streets like frisked apple berries...

Please comment on this poem. I know it is long but...
All my life I loved him...

I carry you around as
if you're an integral...

I'm nowhere close to being a woman, yet.
Though I'm less than a year away from the correct...

I just need to be comforted.
I need to be told it's safe...