All We Want is Love

“You bring me light,” says Bobbi
as I guide a forkful of shredded egg
sandwich to her lips; there is

a familiar focus in her eyes and a
clarity to her words, but neither lasts
more than a wink; I do not want to

watch my mother dying today, but
we do not get to cherry pick when life
needs or does not need us most.

Pareidolia or not?
What Used To Brew In Her Mind