To Gabby,

ON CLEANING A COMPUTER

Cleaning your laptop was

ritual, a religious devotion

to maintenance the hinges

kept strong, screen stain

free unplugging the charger

before it went past 80

I still remember you as that

girl singing Avenged Sevenfold

late at night waiting for

Mommy I know you want to

keep the past like your

computer I know you don’t

want to recall to

flush the flesh I know how

cystic memories burst and

splinter and that painful

slow plucking thorns

as deep as adult teeth

dislodged with forgetful

pliers and I’m sorry for

making you remember

but don’t you feel the scar

tissue within? Surely you

probe the surface on occasion,

surely there are days when

you overcharge I know there

were countless days you carried

armored like durian, gnawing

inside you, I know you think its

pointless to dig it up

but I wish I asked all

those years ago You know

we’re family for a reason

right? That you don’t have

to shoulder those days

alone? I was there too.

If I call you, promise

me that you’ll speak

and I’ll listen

this time.