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cold mother

she sits alone in the turgid
darkness, her swollen breasts
full as a gourd, empty as
sin; missing his boneless

gums. she weeps, but no tears
come; she is dry as tumble-weed. her
belly opens like a venus fly-trap to
capture one of those wrinkled little

bodies, but there is no going
back. the darkness has taken
him.
the mirror throws back a cowering

dwarf, leering and grim. her face peeks
timidly from behind his
hump. she can think of
nothing to say. only, like Anne Boleyn,

she offers him a coin; and her
belated forgiveness.

cold mother

darkvampire

Joined January 2009

Artist's Description

I perhaps should point out that the woman in this poem has aborted her child; she has not had a miscarriage.

Artwork Comments

  • Lyndy
  • darkvampire
  • TheWanderingBoo
  • darkvampire
  • MisssStephaniee
  • darkvampire
  • t-brunetto-2
  • darkvampire
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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