My Mother’s Hips

I hug her

Pressing my face into her, smelling her warm maternal smell

I hug her sweet curves as one who has found a familiar spot

Where you store all your hopes and dreams.

She has always been a beacon of love and support.


I hug her hips again,

Trying to make this current moment

A memory to return to

When I am stressed or alone in this world.

It is hard to hold onto her

As it is hard to hold onto time.


I love her

And the strong woman she has always been.

Not changing who she is for anyone

But also being the sweetest most loving person to family and strangers.


Her heart is deep like a mountain lake.

Full of sadness and heartache but her surface never wavers.

What is it like to have this inner strength?

A goddess of flesh and blood.

I hug those hips knowing my mom is a warrior of life

And I would follow her anywhere.

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