mothers and daughters

the words fall out of
my mouth, rocks plopping heavy
into dark water.

they sink deeper and
and deeper, but we know they're
below the surface,

even when it's still.
she will never say these things
to me, i'm perfect.

but this is a wish,
not a promise.  someday the
tape will play again,

the rocks will plop and
the water will ripple, and
i'll have to listen.