Oh, goodness;
Mama (mee-ah), here we go
again.

“You said you value honesty!”
spit and scream, please,
I really just want to eat my sushi—

“So tell me!”

Mhm.
Mhm.
Alright.

(There are so many
mirrors
in this house, in this family,
so I stare into your—
my—
corneas to tell,)

There are so many tears,
mama (mee-ah!),
that are shed
in the salt of the sun.

The light is yellow.
The one at the end
of the infamous tunnel
is white.
The light of tears
is red.

Light, wavelength,
amplitude, frequency.
Please tell me you understand.

The mirror shakes,
right to left,
once,
twice,

and then it falls off the table
shattering on impact.

“You are so cryptic,”
the exam sheet whispers to me.
“You are so so cryptic
with all your open secrets
airing in the living room TV,
who do you expect
to understand
when all you speak in is riddles?”

I cannot speak in anything else.

So I lean down
to the broken mirror
on the cushioned carpet

(Which is next to infinitely many shattered
frames)

and take two shards
from today’s fresh meat;
then I throw them into my mind
as new words to speak.

“Riddles,”
I say to the exam sheet.
“Riddles.”

Then I tear that too,
take one piece of it,
ink melting on my mind,
and turn to
an open laptop
to wordpress.

Riddles.
Please.
Mama (mee-ah), Here We Go Again!