Unfolding an old note from my mother
inked on a scrap, hurriedly yet purposeful
I trace over every line like canals in the paper
The curves of my letters are starting to look like hers
just like the curves of my hips
Genetics, maybe
or the inheritance of
the weight of the words that weren’t ours to bear
Author: Samantha Martin
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: Samantha is a connector of words and thoughts and people, an instructor of yoga, student of the universe, tarot reader, affirmation architect, chronic wanderer, cancer survivor, dog mom, fanny pack enthusiast, deep belly laugher and tree appreciator. You can find her work, her observations and her musings at goodkarmacleveland.com or on Instagram @goodkarmacleveland.
Link to social media or website: http://goodkarmacleveland.com
