My Mother and I-
Updated: 5 days ago
my mother and i swim in circles of music
i think it’s the deepest language in which we know each other
she taught me how my fingers should graze across piano keys
and how my breath traveled through my body to sing sweet songs,
i learned how coarse calluses worked to bend against ringing strings
so many lessons blooming and blossoming into who i am today
she nimbly flies across black and white notes,
while i traverse the halls, a new aria humming through our walls
we listen to broadway soundtracks together as we drive,
she laughs at lyrics we’ve heard hundreds of times and i try to harmonize
she makes jokes about singers and we talk about her time in conservatories
i bother her with questions on church modes and she smiles at me
my mother and i swim in circles of friendship
i think it’s the deepest method in which we know each other
she is my first best friend, the first and longest i have ever had
she knows my fears and dreams and wishes, more than i know them myself
she knows the flicker in my eyes, the dips in my voice, more than i know them myself
so many memories blooming and blossoming into who i am today
i cannot keep secrets from her, even when i know they’re in my favor-
like the time i tore a poster from england, and she taped it back together for me
she knows the name of every friend i have ever had and their life story
every trivial moment that connects itself through me
we watch reruns of shows we’ve seen hundreds of times, staying up until midnight
she shushes me as i quote my favorite lines and make quips at characters
my mother and i swim in circles of our culture
i think it’s the deepest whisper in which we know each other
foreign tongues roll through her, like water from a ravine
i hear her speak to m