grandma—you live in your Obsession perfume bottle, i talk to it every day, telling you how good you smell, that i long for your root beer kisses that stay sticky on my cheek, that you are magic.
grandma—you live in your flannel & it goes unwashed for too long, but if i can call you mom
on accident again and go without socks in the house, i promise to clean it. grandma—you live in my rosary beads, that i never hold loose, & i beg you every day for something that i cannot control without being soothed—
say Julie one more time…
spoon feed me sweet truths
catch the word more on my lip
trying to slip out