Mother

another way of looking

If I scrape your skin I find

                          patina under my fingernails.

Being blind, I panic in your cupboard of

                          clothes, they smell sick-sweet

                          of primroses,

no changing of rooms, our beds 

                          are melted, we are framed

                          in silver.

Let me crawl back into your cave

                          of old honey and bitter herbs,

                          lost by being carried.

When you are no longer here,

                          you are here in the space you left. 

Reviews

[Everett Dulin]

Absolutely beautiful, a shame you're no longer active. Amazing imagery