BETWEEN FOUR JUNCTIONS

Mother It’s Italy. Images of Mother’s silhouette raptured by crystalline water dark shapes stretch and curl around Her on tail and fin they fly scales a shimmer

‘Don’t hurt Mother!’ I scream but they smile faceless

I crawl and reach for Her but I cannot a railing ties me to the shore She goes under six feet under lost in a raucous rictus of waves the water grows still silent.

Silence.

Eyes open but clouded sweat cocooning my limbs suffocating raw breaths like anvil strikes while my mind goes up in flames minutes drip by fish bone scars littering a wrecked vessel

I think of Mother, my goddess. Maybe I should tell Her I love Her?

Not to appease or garner trinkets I don’t need