I used to think my life would be so significant.

As if I, represent the microcosm within my world, of this universe.
In part it is true.
But now , I now. All these days, are lonely ones.
The divine mother listens but none else.

We are always walking, mother.
I neither see your face ,
but for the wet remembrance coursing my veins.

Each day gets closer,
my knee is got a cramp from sitting too long.
I stare at the screen waiting for the next day.
Forgetting the simple sequence,
my meals sit cold and lonely.
The computer fan whizzes away the hot steamy in puffs and billows

suddenly, a stolen glance

and I remember what it was like.
To be by your chair, as you petaled away in laughter
.
Every night
Every moment

Death is parting kiss.
Until, we meet again dear mother.