glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling
are nightly reminders
you were mother of many
goddess king who made him know
darkness is not the death of vision

you flung stars into popcorn
a confetti of love
to conquer the boogeymen of a child
but not me

for months i have stargazed
from the bed we now share in your absence
wishing i were grandchild
rather than son
wishing the love you learned from mistakes
was mine to claim
not his
wishing he never knew
the tenderness you learned
from years of loving a bruised fruit man
wising upon stars
in the night
when the thing under the bed
still frightens me

they are fallen stars now
gathered in a plastic bag in the trash

what good are wishes
when your voice only echoes
in the galaxy of a dark room
where the only ears are mine

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