Mother’s love
a drop of acid in a cup of warm milk
the hand that mysteriously turns the key
and, locked up in hours of despair and solitude
survival of the flesh becomes meaningless
a burden to keep, a sacrifice, to hold on to
the elevation of mind and spirit.

Mother’s love
officially given and privately taken away
a torture of each and every day
temporary denial of  her faults
the reason for loss and the tool for
survival...

Loving mother
and having to turn the world upside down
giving without receiving
trapped in a child’s body
with the mind of a provider
having to stand and grow
on the quicksand of her corrupt mind.

Learning the meaning of love
elsewhere and far away
sheltering the soul
of the grown-up woman
and the sparkle of the child
in that ochre house
where the body can stand by the fire
feeling its warmth without being bunt.

Then daylight, like a presence
beams through a glass of fresh water
finding at the source
what couldn’t be received
able to pass it forward
and to move forward.

Mother’s unlove
like a drop of lie in an ocean of truth
absorbed, dissolved
while survival turned
into living, stepping out
for a walk with one’s forgiven self.