Susan,

When I went to your daughter’s
princess-themed birthday party
yesterday, after I set my pink gift
bag on the white folding table in
your delightful backyard, I saw you
blowing bubbles for Sarah, Daisy
and the other girls. They loved it,
and they loved you. You’re motherly,
in the best sense of the word. Was
that a new dress you were wearing?

And I wanted to tell you that
when I saw Sarah all done-up
in her fairy-tale princess outfit,
and then when I looked at you,
the thought came to me:
you were the real princess.
Sure, your daughter had the tiara,
but you had the halo.

You still have a halo. I see it
when I close my eyes.
It’s illuminating your eyelashes,
your cheeks, your teeth, your naked throat.

How does dinner sound?