mother's boy

the mother's thoughts for that little boy
of that warm room he should find among the hard
wood hallways soft in time

and then that fright and trembling
overtook by looming
cold and creaking indifferent
to the steps
it is lip biting
and bleeding to go sorting through
the steps and mirrors
after that place
in his mother's mind and fairytales

and when he is looking on the porceline blooming
and his passion after her pleasures
and he finds it lovely
and he walks through the halls
looking for such warping in the woods
and staining in the grains
and finding such wailing devotion honest
greater comfort than the ease

and then his mother that he loves
on finding him one night in tears
lain out long the way in his
can only petition him to mind her bones
hips and ribs that bruise along such
and other obscurities

and what is he to do
but pain that he could not stay in that room
lofty by the window sun
and pain once again that his breath is edgewise
and into corners down the flights
and along the halls
and every other seam holding
against the salt flood that would take the tulips
and his efforts after flowers to bind up and onto paper
into paper cuts on porceline

and then take breath again at the sea still holding
and then take breath again out
searching for those trees that take his fingers
captive like a smile
and then take breath again

she does smile at the blooms he finds for her
in those fits of his