BY AUDREY WEISBURD
Mother,
You tenderly trace the outline of my baby face
The cupcake cheeks I contour now
Bare lashes
Unpursed pale lips
You drag your pinky down the slope of my cartoon nose
Before the blackheads came in
Before matte powder covered me up
And shut you out
Mother,
You draw my soft cheekbones
My satin jawline
The stencil of innocence
The perimeter of purity
Your entire face squishes towards the center
A nurturing smile
Spills from your eyes
I exhale, as no harm can touch me now
Mother,
You beam at the angel in your lap
The angel you created
You drew me from scratch
You delicately draw my modest face
I shut my eyelids
Naked of ash and smoke
And drift into cartoon dreams
Oh to sleep in your steady cocoon
again
Mother,
You rest your eyes
And begin a Godless prayer
That the weeds of the world never
Tangle me dry
When you are not there,
That although I will grow
surrounded by dirt
The sweet seed of love in my soul
Remains intact
Mother,
The girls have given up now
The boys, they gawk and grab
The girls call the girls ugly
The boys turn into vultures
when the lights dim
Sobriety became a commodity
Treading through tidal waves,
I swim
I remember you,
Mother
Audrey Weisburd is a sophomore majoring in television, radio, and film with a creative writing minor. Storytelling is her greatest passion, through films, songs, poetry, and conversations. She loves cats, dancing, music, and trying to capture the most honest beauty of the world. She is from Austin Texas and has career goals in screenwriting and journalism, but she plans to continue her poetry for her entire life.
