here, speak to Amma
my sister offers, holding
out the hair dryer to me
I gently receive the device
lift aside the strands of hair
caught in its grill, delicately
I set the roaring machine
to my ear where it begins
to angrily melt my earrings
at first I can't hear my mother
--speak a little louder--I beg
even as I feel bad for asking
as she sounds so, so tired
and now she's complaining
about how she forgot to bring
any money with her
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