when I look in the mirror
every good thing about me
has been you
what academics have been trying to tell me for years
you pinned in seconds when I was thirteen
I don’t know how to answer a direct question
I categorize words together that are not synonyms, not even adjacent in definition
no one tells me this except you
in the brief moments when you call about my health and my safety
and six years later, I think I understand what you meant when you said
I. don’t play the odds
II. context
III. listen
there’s a reason why you are my sole inheritor
I won’t claim to understand the matters of your mind
but in glimmers
I can hear that giggling kid in all those old Kodaks
joy is the process, fuck the results:
it’s all I need to know making big family decisions moving forward