I am my mother’s daughter.
Sometimes I do things that I remind me of her. It isn’t her of me.
I act out her mannerisms. And sometimes I embody them too.
I have her shoulders, her torso, her hands.
We share secrets when we laugh.
Sometimes I arrive in PA to newspaper clippings of tattoo removal doctors. Complete with coupons.
We had a row when I got that nose piercing. I still think my sister was the most disappointed though.