Our Bodies

Ode to Moms

you always take pictures of us and i always thought it was dumb until i caught myself scrolling through your facebook photos and saw my own face smiling back at me, then at your smile
i wish my smile reflected off of my face the way yours does when you're on a lake staring at the sunset even though you know it'll damage your eyes
but you don't care because you've never seen the sun look like a lemon before
you triple blink, trying to clear out the lemon juice you just soaked up like a sponge from the sun that left you red like a tomato that day at the beach
the way you must grab the roses and push them right up against your extra small nose, even though you get thorns in your fingers like the needles you used to hem my pants when i was too little for the pants you thought i'd like, just because
the way you sway your hips while cutting tomatoes for our salads listening to old music you remember dancing to when you were my age
you say i'm a replica
i say i'm lucky to be like someone as amazing as you
you've given this life everything you've got, and that's exactly what you got back
we talk in the car about life and experience, i learn new things about you
your life is like a story book not meant for kids to read with their parents,
but rather by themselves in their rooms at 3 am when they're trying to figure out their own lives
you tell me you don't want me to mess up like you, you want me to "be better" than you
i say it's impossible, because you've already been the best there could ever be
ever
you've taught me how to take a step back and look at the sunset, even though it'll hurt my eyes
how to smell the roses, and don't worry about the aftermath of pulling thorns out of my fingers for days
how to enjoy the sun and not care about the burn
how to dance and not worry about the achy feet i'll have later
and how to live without caring about dying