Amid Christmas wrapping
and bitter coffee
(two cups a mistake, I am jittery again)
My mother and I are breaking
we are crushing the shadows
of an adult-realised heritage
letting out the secrets
Unpenning them carefully
and narrowing our eyes cautiously
shot guns at the ready
We are tearing down the house
our ancestors built
with deliberation
and planning
This is no chaotic invasion.
No terrorist bombs
No government sanctioned war on privacy
Just us.
Careful. Quiet. Unseen.
And when they see what we've done
to these maddening generations of
shadows and lies
They will know
they were wrong
and they, too, will embrace the sun
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