by Lynn Strongin
The Sky caps me & the small jar that held the one of four posters of our bed. Sky another document, secret testament to Lesbian love. (Mother a lipstick Lesbian, closet case) Glass letters in reliefOn the front The front of winterMirroringWar time pots & pans: metals Sculpting half a century before the millennium Mother slapping a pack of “Phillip Morris” into her breast pocket: jars me, admiration like a shaft, My exotic mother, sternum burning a fire that spreads from breastbone to heart, that small breathing machine.
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