I fear my mother will,
upon her death, become omnipresent;
I shall be in my lover's house
safeguarded - I think-
from the eyes of my husband.
I shall be about to come
when just at the wrong time
in that pervasive darkness,
my mother's invisible right hand
will make itself known.
And a voice - hers: I will recognize it-
that I rise up and go home.
She will pull the blanket protectively, prudishly,
over my naked breasts
embarrassed, and mother-beaten,
will retrieve my clothes from the floor
and go home.