Also while I was away I missed my family a lot.
I've been eating at home a lot.
My mom cooks for me now more than she ever
did when I lived here.
And this is a poem simply titled "Poem Missing My Mother."
"Weary, I bury my head in my folded arms.
Along my skin a smell sudden and unmistakable tortilla
de harina.
The plancha-singed dough, trail of moles marching,
matching up each arm.
My vision is a yellow kitchen where I am made entire."