Letter To A Dead Mother

Five years since you died and I am
better than I was when you were living.
The years have not been wasted.
I have heard the harsh voice
of desert birds who cannot sing.
Sometimes I touch the membrane
between violence and desire
and watch it vibrate.
I learned that a women
who travels in circles
never arrives at exactly the same place.

If you could see me now
side-stepping triumph and disaster,

Still waiting for you to say my daughter
my beloved daughter. If you could only see
me now, you would know I am stronger.

Death was the poorest subterfuge
you ever managed, but it was permanent.
Do you see now that mothers
who cannot love theirs daughters
have daughters who cannot love?
It was not your fault
and it was not mine. I needed
your love but I recovered without it.
Now I no longer need anything.