Belief

During a crisis, I once asked my mother if she were ever happy
And with shaking voice, she replied she had never been
Since she married my father
My heart plummeted
Would I suffer the same fate?
But it must be a lie
These photographs show a woman, young and content
Brimming with joy and love for the children in her arms
How easily we believe
“We will never be happy again”
When we are sad

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Braces

I cannot bear to hear your shaking voice
Or see the way your eyes avert
I ask only because I wish to understand
I ask only out of need
Let me rest on your shoulder,
And you shall rest on mine.