The most recent conversation with ma
took place over the telephone.
Her voice seemed a bit formal and reserved;
mine was a black hole desiring color and stars.
The words out my mouth were nervously chosen
with short pauses and hopefulness. Still,

I moved in a losing direction on the board.
Thought I could reason,
but a simple innocent greeting
along with a million self-deprecating words from me
would have kept the door open
to the universe I dream. How foolish
of me to think that I could lay bare my heart
like a patient in a surgical room.

Another chance squandered, so expensive
and far in between, with every word.