a place of safety? he wonders
and i don't hesitate to answer.
well my mother's bed
something about it, i continue
the way the comforter never attaches to the foot
and the sheets wrinkle into folds of security
the smell as i breathe deep into the pillows
unchanged no matter the location
makes my tears subside little by little
soaking up thoughts of regret
and provides a feeling no human could give
well, besides my mother of course.
a feeling of overwhelming safety, all in my mother's empty bed