mother

It is an essay and a half and it isn't well formed.
mother
in the milled night
specks of blue day
fluttering on shallow water
as a rat that was wasted
wingless and lifeless
unable to be rescued
after tipping in
i rest in the eaves
on a sofa
nuzzle my cat
who was just like your persian
grey and puffed
from those years before
maybe i got her
to be closer to you
and so i choose something different
to emerge onto something else
focus on damask curtains
ones that will drape around the body
keep in heat off set the green stain
surrounding my new world
your voice beats
against eardrums lately
another time, another
mist across the skin
another flight
where your presence
is unable to settle
barely a shadow
where you
are every where
in every glass pane
regurgitated into cycles
of cycles
upon cycles
so that at times
when i am most cocooned
a wretched unevolved
impossible self
i am left calling your name
knowing you were gone
before i arrived
and so i accept what is
take leave
to the garden
watch stars wash out
black on silver
black on grey
black on black
knowing no one
will know the scent of you
the flit in your flame
as i did
or perhaps
sometimes still do