She Is Gone Now...
She is gone now. The sight of flour on skin, age spots form an archipelago across her arms. a clutter of dusty pictures and rosaries under her bed. Life, you’d sometimes think, hadn’t been that good to you . Girdles that squeezed your fibroid infested womb— An old hallowed out home to five Barricaded Against Life… You comb your unruly hair back And look uncomfortable. The look is not you. I love it when you just Let it be— Instead of taming it And looking like a scared Old lady Instead of the courageous Heroine that you are. You still store things Away In overflowing drawers And cupboards Afraid that one day You will need Something & it will not be there: You say, I feel your mother Is doing something To me — Like I can’t put my Fingers on it – Your finger pointed in the air Only to slowly come down And rest, at your side Powerless. We loved each other once. The nights I fell asleep under the symphony o...