Triple crown molding and glass doorknobs.
Black and white memories in Hollywood style.
Speeches into comas, prayers from aching heart.
She returned for a while and softened depart.
A piece of her is me although she really died.
The boy still misses Mother and has been known to cry.
It was only a movie. What state am I in?
What delivered me this angst? Why’s it feel like sin?
Keep all your pity. I’ll dry my own tears.
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