I am fishing in the garbage
for the sticker I took off the apple
forgetting that you like to pretend
they are tattoos
you are a tornado
of mad and sad
while I dig and dig
like a nervous slave
I find a twist-tie instead
that I clean off
and wrap around your finger
like a ring
I love you mama
a temporary truce
in your volatile world
where there is no such thing as garbage
only lost things
that were precious.