confrontation

When I look up to meet my mother's gaze,

She looks away; unuttered words

heavy on her lips. I wonder

if she feels the air tighten

between us, thoughts and

feelings pulling,

tugging, yanking

on our hearts.

There's plenty

we need

to

say to

each other,

but the chasm

of time and space feels

too wide to scale. History

swirls like a whirlpool in

that gap, threatening to drown

us both, sinking us deep into an

abyss that neither are ready to face.