the dinner table.
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- Parts 5
my mother and i are sitting to eat again.
we will aim knives covered in sauce at each other's throats. i will scream at her the chicken is underdone and she will scream back at me why weren't you ever the daughter i wanted. i will bite the hand and she will bruise my heel. i will fall at her feet in tears and she will use them to season her food. this is how it is. this it how it has always been.
we will feed each other our still-beating hearts, torn clean from our chests, and call it love.
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#366
musings
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