Porcupine Meatballs

there’s something about the way a ball of meat can become a monster

with needles sharp enough to cut

 

child has no fear

 

she cuts that monster in half

shoveling mess into mouth

dripping greasy red

another shirt ruined

another monster down

there’s something about the way love can become a memory

with a fading voice and soft hands

 

mom had no fear

 

she wiped tears from face

battling metastatic stage 4

hope’s last drip

another year passed

another memory gone

 

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