Mother
Did you count them
The minutes of relief you felt
After draping me in black
And yourself in white
Because I see darkness now
In sunlit, moonlit edges
In reflections and mirrors
In rearviews and peripheral
In friends and in lovers
It has blinded me in ways I cannot fathom
Vision comes in musings that are too late
In the smoke of burnt bridges
In the heat of torched alliances
Like begets like
To come to a cursed flame
Moths must also be cursed
They won’t stop coming
And I burn, and I burn
No respite from this suffocating fabric
It has worn me too long
And what light that comes through
Kaleidoscopes into obsidian
Like begets like
Mother
Did you count them?
The minutes of relief you felt
Did they live up?
To the years that I felt dead