6.20.25

i’ve reached the age where no one asks about my mom. its just accepted, no inquiries. its a relief that i’ve wanted, but for some reason I feel the urge to keep her memory alive. like i’m grieving.as if she has died. maybe from cancer or a car accident.in a way that evokes sympathy from strangers, or gives me a greater purpose in her absence. in elementary school kids would try to argue with me when I told them I don’t have one. “Everyone has a mommy” they would say in a sweet and naive way.

11.11.25

I think of my Dede while I get dressed. Putting on my bra I see a reflection of her.