A grown woman
lives here.
She cleans my house,
and she buys me groceries,
and she pays my taxes.
A grown woman
picks out my clothes for tomorrow,
makes my lunch.
She doesn’t make
all my decisions, but
she sees to the
day-to-day.
I wish she were more strict,
would punish me more effectively.
But she’s nobody’s mother.
She’s me
on a good day.
And I wish
she were me
more often.
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