Mother's Love

The stability of mother’s love- may it cripple one so? That withdrawn parallel, intimate she: cause endless dream of a lover’s retreat. The banal topic revisited, for humans sweet obsess of touching, though phantom still this affair may be enough to kill a single pointless soul amiss. A recluse, a retard, a social misfit, a shell of a weirdo disfigured I’ve lit; an outline in chalk of strange trembling gone, and once it’s awake, disappeared it’s become. Forgetting course of development- a simple hand prefers to twitch upon fresh and fictitious parchment crisp, escaping what was meant. A poet’s loathing goes within, his mother told him not: that selfish love feels beating warm but frigid dead is wrought.