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.