Death is always

always there
death
surrounds us embraces us hugs us so
so close until she swallows us

what’s the opposite of a parent
?
of the creator of lights sprouting from
our midst our chest
our feet burying roots digging growing

death
who holds us and embraces us
Takes our mothers who took us
from her first In the end she
gets us back
anyway.

How can I not call her mine
as well?
my doing my undoing my growth
my decay . all is life. All is mine.


KH