I left chocolate ice cream stains beneath your chin.
I wanted to indulge in your young soul for a moment more than socially appropriate.
A precious memory to be sewn into my long term and yours for the time being.
Over time you have retreated; waning your womanly characteristics into the child your mother must have known.
In a bittersweet, didactic daydream, I connect with your mother. I washed your hands and cleaned your face with the napkin.
At this moment I know I have exactly four minutes to collect.
To learn the fast facts of your history, ancestory, and memories, before the reset button functions without fail.
One moment to use the tongue your mother bestowed because you forgot the one handed to you in school. Tell me of the mallet that whipped a whisper.
Lend me one moment to tell me of the time you left your future husband on his knees for weeks, begging for your hand to please.
And let me steal a moment to remember when you found religion at the bottom of a sack of carrot seeds; hands blistered by the weeds and threw care to the breeze.
Lend me a moment more to collect these memories so that I may be a record for the family of the grandmother who lived in the moment
Because that’s all that ever existed.