Parent by Olivia Mokrzycki

Sweetest cherry on the tree, 
trembling hands reach up to pick it
Same hands that tuck me in
Same hands that wake me up

Glossy browns
in her eyes and her hair
Chasing me around the chair
Running the bath
Too hot, too hot, too cold

Slow tone, rustling inside us
soft purrs from our lips
eyes closed, arms to the sun
the blood of a collected love
told stories through dances, through songs

Taught me more than mother did,
Always will