or, life lessons taking me more than a quarter of a century to learn, somehow succinctly summarized in a three-year old's preschool lesson.
You were my mother--the petulant apologies half-growled,
flung like a confident new convert's appeasement:
They chafed
She slapped my mouth (I counted the times) with her floury hands--
you kissed it: buttering my unraveling debt.
some salve.
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