MOM

You came to me in a dream, just the other night
it's as if you did not recognize me, it did not feel right.
You sat upon a bench, confused and looking pensive
You looked at me with eyes, appearing apprehensive
The only thing I knew to do, I bent and whispered in your ear
"I love you Mom" and backed away, I am not sure that you could hear
I felt as If the dream was ending, and I was being pulled away
I turned around, very slowly, just in time to hear you say,
"What was that you said to me?" now her spirit was breaking through
Her countenance with an angelic look, she said, "I love you too"
RIP Mom
You will always be my Angel

(This is an awful poem but it helped... With what, I don't know, it just helped).

I.

Terrible, sinuous bottles. Terrible, vibrant
colors. Such shimmering, pretty lies.
Each one signifying something that will never be.
The only beauty, the sound of your name,
which would shatter and die.

II.

My sculptured, silver throat.
Or at least, crystalline gate when flooded,
threaded shards pressed inward,
hungry, their sweet, delicate teeth.
My body under blankets, Venetian,
red and purple like a baby, fevered and heaving.

They always associated you with cold.
I wanted to make you warm but it was
breathing life into the dead. Still didn’t we always,
deep inside, want to be one with that purity,
frozen in sinlessness to nothing that will answer,
bodies grown acclimated to the most beautiful cruelties.

Inside a transparent coffin, the princess sleeps.

III.

I forgot I died once before and I discovered
there was nothing to look forward to,
the road diverged but two paths led straight back
to Hades, the pain of slow afternoon light
and a frilly womb scented by lavender and stillness.

Or rather, a stopping and a starting
with no memory in between.

On the way I had grown lost, haunted by
slippers and fairies and the faintest traces of dust.
When he pressed me to the door,
a reflection exquisite, forced me to look him
in the eyes the whole way through.

IV.

If I looked into you I would see what I know,
the blotched skin, mismatched eyes,
face of an ogress.
Her heavy body that was also my body, the dancing hernia,
the word shock repeated over and over, another lovely word,
soft staccato rolling from my tongue.

I huddle in a house deplete of the world.
She has won in the end, even after the end,
fearful tyrant, beloved foe, I yearned
for her love like dew on apples.
Now fading, losing volume. Not quite a pinprick, no.
I know the treachery of the living,
I writhe with it. Loved ones unrecognizable now.
My feet cold and numb and clear as hers.

There is no love. There is only need.
There is no safety.
There is no point. There is only pointlessness.

 
While a war was brewing in the near horizon
She made the most difficult decision of her life
Leave a young child behind to make a path
Risking it all by making such a sacrifice

And when the war began there was bloodshed
There was a great diaspora of my peoples
As my mother toiled I can only imagine the worry
Hell on earth had arrived while she was far away

See, as the war was waged in those early days
Many mothers left their homeland seeking asylum
They went in search of a future and opportunity
Then to reunite the family in a safer place

While the war was being fought in different fronts
Some mothers lost their children to the violence
Some children lost their mothers in the warfare
And my mother worked hard to get me out of there

As the war continued a mother’s love never gave up
Some stayed behind sending their children away
Praying, hoping against all odds that this cruel world
Would not harm their babies
Especially for those who stayed

A mother’s love is unfathomable
It is the connection of life in the universe
It crosses the vastness of time and distance
Because no matter what war is fought
A mother’s love is the strongest bond in human existence
.
.
.
.
Shout out to my grandma as well
She was there to protect me from the hell
Because during in the war of those days in the past
My abuelita was badass

We all gathered there
To say our goodbyes  
Father Lewis said you were with Jesus now
There were sniffles and red eyes and the sound of people full on ugly crying
“A GAAA Uh GAAAA uh GAAAAA”
You were so loved
You’d be so missed
 
As I approached your casket
I reached in to touch your icy face
So cold to the touch
I imagined the stillness of your perfect body
The state of rest you mastered
The flower dress that in life was your favorite
And your winter nipples poking through  
Cutting through my heart’s brick wall
 
I imagined climbing inside with you
Spooning and feeling you up
Cupping your tits as I slid inside you
 
I was startled when Dad grabbed me
My hard on was on display for everyone to see
He pulled me out of the service
I thought he’d chastise me
Or beat me
But instead. he whispered...
 
“There’s no wrong way to process your emotions, son”
 
I miss you mom.

My mom had my name tattooed
Right above her ass crack
On the small of her back
She loved me like no other
That was my mother

She was sentimental about her body modifications
And yet when I make the suggestion
That one of my bitches do the same
And go downtown to tattoo my name
Somewhere on their body
They look at my oddly

You act like I didn’t spend the whole of last week
Eating your ass out
What’s that about?
Too soon?
Bitch, you was little spoon
Just this morning
I brought you breakfast in bed
You gave me toothy head
We familiar, hon
Get it done

My mother’s tramp stamp
Showed me she cared
Enough to put my name right there
Directly below the names
Of a few rowdy sailors that came before
They don’t make them like my mom no more