Did your mother mourn your first locks

whe she found out the truth

about the thoughts

hidden behind your eyes

as secretive as pressed flowers hidden

in pocket bibles.

-

These leaves you pluck from their bindings,

and roll into cigarettes;

they read ‘Ezekiel’.

-

Your mother

must look at you as a baby

with a two-ton heart

and your mind being

a whirlpool of water;

slightly polluted

but as warm as Sunday’s bath.

-

You’re forever drawing in bathers

that drown in your presence.

-

Being close to you

brings me ever closer

to drowning.

-

And your mother

wants your girls

to come up for air