Mother // Monster

At dinner, my dad says after I was born
xxxxxx I devoured laced milk. My mother’s
xxxxxxxxxxxxx brined sorrow was my first elixir for sleep.

I learned from her how to cry without stopping
xxxxxx in those first months.

Motherhood
xxxxxx & its sorrow were entwined monsters.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxLet him speak plainly: he would have left her

alone with my monstrous infancy & my brother,
xxxxxx only three, playing with his trains on the floor.

I want to reduce berry down to bitter.
xxxxxx I want to tell stories of my self-centeredness like I invented it.

The trick is to tell stories like a man.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx The trick is every story is a hero’s journey
xxxxxx if it’s told without remorse.

My inheritance is my mother’s honeycombed sorrow,
xxxxxx my father’s deluged retreat.

I read once that female babies survive stressful pregnancies
xxxxxxxxxxxxx more often than males.
Even at birth they leave when it’s too hard.

Misread
xxxxxxx “mothers” as monster,

xxxxxxxxxxxxx miss the other in the middle, moth
drawn to bright window at night

as he leaves, and says the children are only hers.