Tu Madre. Poem by Laurenne Lauran

Tu Madre es the papillon of my heart.
Her wings sparkle as bright as the night sky.
Oh, I left my television on again.
But that's okay, because tu Madre shall turn it off again.

Tu Madre is as necessary as the dried coconut pieces in fruit n fibre.
She bonds them together, like sweet, effervescent nectar to a famished papillon.
My three-day French streak on Duolingo has been broken,
I blame tu Madre for that, she dragged me from the depths of my linguistic hell.

Tu Madre es the papillon of my heart.
Her wings sparkle as bright as the night sky.
Tu Madre es mi Madre.
Tu Madre es dead.