Mint fell out of her soft palms onto the marble counter top
She tore up the tiny veined leaves into a heaping mound
Lime, sugar & mint bits: muddled to a crisp celery green perfection
I sat looking up at her, indian style, from the grooves of the kitchen floor
My mother took her anger out on those leaves-
Crushing their bones with her clenched fists of rage
As she would grind, her tears would topple to the tiles & splash my itty-bitty toes
She’d drown the mint with jigger-full after jigger-full of toxic dark rum
Vigorously she’d shake the mixture to a fizzy pulpy poison
My big six-year-old eyes watched her violently down the loss she knew so well,
       & that I failed to understand


About laurenfedorko

Aspiring writer. English teacher. Philosophy: know more about the world than you did yesterday and lessen the suffering of others.
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