burned

he said he loved me 

I couldn’t say anything 

other than, “that’s nice” 

he handed me a baby

burned so badly that 

I couldn’t even cry

he left me and I held on 

to this baby who looked 

a little bit like me

project/ion

mostly against advice and reason,
partly because she had no real mother,
she let herself become the project of the
mother of a former lover, a woman who
declared that mother and son were one
and the same – so it was already foreshadowed
that she would be a failed enterprise.

with her therapist whispering in her ear and
freud perched in her heart, she listened to the
mother pronounce her many shortcomings
and instruct her to live differently;
until freud woke her from a dead sleep to
say he could not go on, the projection
had to stop – and she and her therapist agreed.

Life, remains 

In my own backyard I stumbled across what was left of a delicate life. I stooped low and close to examine the remains, and though they revealed almost nothing, I sat and pondered the small bones for a long time.