she told me i look beautiful when i cry.
flushed cheeks of velvet and puddled eyelids,
did i really look beautiful mother?
at my feet saw an orbit of tears pooled beyond a horizon,
the pale waters distorted, but i finally looked like you.
to watch my reflection in the foreign symmetry of your face,
left me bewildered.
did you, too, find a twisted solace in quiet cries?
mother, how don’t you see that beauty you found in my sunken eyes,
to see it for you?