you look like someone

you look like
someone i used to
know, your mother
says to you
when you visit
her and bring
her magazines.
and you say, it's
me. your son.
and she says no,
someone else.
someone who looks
something like
you, but taller,
a little younger,
perhaps more hair.
she spoons more jello
into her mouth.
and offers me
some. i say no.
and she says, they
put fruit in it.
i've never thought
to do that. she
looks at the cover
of the magazine
in her lap
and begins to cry.
liz taylor, she
says. i always loved
her. those violet
eyes.