mamma

I lived the comfort of your waisted thumb
And focused my anger
On your thumb
The centre of my comfort
The nadir of my hope
Your thumb stroking circles on my skin
Was so nearly enough
But the demons came
And your thumb and I were mutually bewildered
And my wordless story
Not to be relased by a thumb stoke
Your tender circles on my defiled skin
And we rowed
Your thumb was innocent of
The story my skin leaked into your waisted thumb
My skin hungered for your blind touch
Leaching the sweat of my wordless space into your digit
Wanting to speak
My sin’s story.
A thumb so perfect in design that death could not
De constructs its power
I kissed your dead thumb Mamma
I lay beside you will you were rotting
Eager to live the last night with you.
But can’t go home again mamma
Your waisted thumb laid careless prints
On my territory
And when I cry loss of you
Will you be there?
Your waisted thumb circled impatient
Movements on my brow
The deep comfort of our mutual irritation
Was exchanged by our epidermis
The Fingerprints
Of our troubled souls
Live on my skin
Mourning you is pointless I have been morning you for years and living you
In my hearts’ breath
But my soul seeks out to cry for you
As once I cried for your grandson in Hans Placed
Do you remember him mamma
You could not read that pain?
I meet death at that moment
And found a way through
To my wild quiet place
I am crazed by living live without you
But living life with you was a crazy pain
My tears for you are waiting
Until I am old enough
To dare to lose you-