Her love is confusing for them, but moreso for herself.
She wants them to speak,
but only if she listens.
She wants them to laugh,
only if she’s in on the joke.
It doesn’t seem too much to ask, does it?
She brushes aside her worry.
She isn’t controlling their brotherhood,
she’s merely managing it,
and there’s a difference if you’re careful not to think about it.
Don’t ruminate, that’s the trick,
although ruminating is most of what she does when left with her time.
So much time.
When did she accumulate so much of it?
She wants them to have a good relationship,
but she also wants her relationship to be stronger with each of them than with each other,
and of course that isn’t true,
but what’s the harm if it is?
What’s the harm.
It isn’t a question after all, at least not one worth considering,
for a mother’s love is always best,
which she’s always known, and she’s taught them well enough to always know it too.
Although sometimes the youngest wonders.
And sometimes the oldest grows bitter.
Never mind. It isn’t worth the time or thought.
She'll tell them how to feel about her and how to feel about another,
as she should,
and then they'll know better,
and then they'll feel better,
and then all will be as it should have been and should be, and...