Roman Mother

There is a certain peace when it snows
Makes the youth melt away.
Broken buildings wink out a murder of crows,
This is a symbol of change, the death card that growls me to sleep & whispers, I would be
If you had only seen,
But for necessity I am not what this makes me.

your element had been separation.
I see things happen as though it were someone else,
With your blessing I retreat to fantasies & dreams that will never grow beyond my girth
Within this first trimester even you have begun to weigh heavily again.
Shall I turn the burden beast back around or leave you cold as you taught me?

Lessons learned fade & swell like the tide you love
But you are land to my water,
You continue to recede while I am in my cycle of rain & waves.
I irrigate my anger with whiskey,
Drink to feel time slow
So I will have the time to tell you why.

It has been so long.

I have become predatory again,
My tears sleet down my jaw, promoting the snarl & snap of rebellion.

My pen is alive with bitter astonishment & painful attachment.
Your stares of six-day growth wither like your faith,
The growling grows louder & I have stirred in my slumber.

I can’t remember why I wanted to ask you questions
I don’t want the answers to –
How much did you long to tap dance,
How well you believe oranges & tea taste together,
Or the feeling of embracing your first man?
I can’t remember why I wanted to show you
The things about me you never want to see –
My fury, scarred knuckles
Or the way I chronicle my passion in ink on parchments of flesh.

Those sly thighs recall how to live spartanly
But it brings the thirst of a Roman mother & historically I have suffered all four hungers.
Today I go,
Fashion my freedom away from brotherhood,
Betrayal & reunion,
A language of distance & patience
Dictates my waking with the possibilities
Of baby’s breath & the soft lick of a blade.
I am in the midst of triumph & disaster has struck,
So I rise with a plate of self-appointed judge’s tongues,
Lunch with poppies & black lotus,
Finishing with a meal of nails & razors,
Making my dreams more red than black as I rage a revolution.

I must remember my tears,
My wings,
And my ability to forgive.
I wish you sweet dreams with the memories you took.