After you fix the broken picture frame
with wood staples and wire, take the glass
rectangle to the kitchen and turn on the tap,
hold it beneath and watch the water slide down
through the dust. Balance that expanse
on the divider between the two sinks, tempting
gravity, while you squirt a blue sponge with soap.
Scrub at the emptiness. Feel how solid it is
against your fingers. Dry the glass
with a paper towel, rub the pane
until it sings, then bring the damp cloth
to your face, cooling your flesh, your blood.
Pick up the little invisible door
and place it back in its frame, press
your dead mother against it which is where
she belongs, under glass like a specimen.
Her eyes forever open, her lies sealed shut.
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PB learns to ride the unicycle!UPDATE: Uni--whaaaaaa?February 1, 2022
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