Saturday, February 5, 2011


Our line grows silent and abandoned
Remade with sodden blonde hair
And rustled eyes.
Separation feels permanent
Loneliness will not go away.
Even after children
One never gives over
To death completely.
It takes us
After cakes have been decorated
And little elfin friends have been rationalized.
We can smell mother’s cancer.
I confess I want to punch her in the face
When she holds me and whispers
I will never let you go
But I know I will wail
And scratch eyes
Behind the daffodils she planted
Where she once hid
Easter eggs waxed
With my name.

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