Mother,mother

[clarity]

Here are the things
I cannot say to you,
lined up behind me;
angry people in
a queue.

How long they have
waited, knowing they
will never reach your
ears, your heart.

It is you they all
line up for, yet all I can
offer them is my
own time.

Your love, which never
blossomed, withered on
dry branches and left
profoundly empty space.

As we talk, these
angry people and I,
love trickles in and
swells the dry cracked
clay of our hearts.

You are
dispensable.

The great taboo
crumbles into ashes.
Revelation opens
the floodgates.

Mother, mother.
I watch as you float away,
insubstantial as a feather
upon the water.

[Lingurine]

Beautiful clarity, the depth of your thoughts as a counterpart to her lack of depth...nice

Lingurine