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I’m picking a blanket
for the baby
and my mother keeps telling us
stop fighting
it doesn’t matter
but I’m sure
green will look much better

I’m watching a teenager
take photos by the dumpster
in a pink floral dress
telling her photographer
don’t get my cast in the shot
but I’m sure
anyone can see the crutches
leaning to the side

I’m helping the babysitter
say her nightly prayers
and you ask me
if god is just an argument
and I stare
I stare

I’m collecting collections of
memories
in jars and hand sculpted vases
and watching them tumble out
my life obscured and revealed