“How many of my mother’s smiles was I not able to paint in my head?Did I always know when she gave a piece of her heart? Did I ever speak of all the bright, brightbougainvilleas I meant to pick for her?Did I listen when she told me what makes a red tomato?My bones so strong and my cheeks so rosy?How can I hear the wisdom in her belly?How can I wear a sliverof light from her spirit?”