late spring.

mother let go

and let me fall

the way i should've

thirteen years ago

you did not know

youth is most clement

from glass shards

to a broken toe

when a mistake makes

not a man or woman

but only a shadow

who never wakes

the lightness

of being able to fall

then float

above it all

you put your hands

around my head

hoping my lips

won't kiss the land

so i walk

half blinded half deaf

safe from the ticking

of an aging clock

guided by

the mistaken shapes

that barely reach

your dimming eyes

you frown too much

at all the world

and forbid me

to learn by touch

my skin has not tasted

the burn of the sun

the bite of concrete

the meaning of "wasted"

you cannot see

my face so pale and hands too soft

my tongue afraid of sweet

hot coffee and tea

mother let go

before your last fall

or i might never

be above below.