There Is Only Attachments

There is only attachments The hunger of the soul for soul I do not see love The candle extinguishing itself To light the world I see my children grown away from me Fondled with maternal lies The bonds broken in pieces Like a china on the floor And my chest still heaving Where they were lain Cradled in the pulse of my breathing All through the ritual Of bottled caressed lips It was I who changed the diapers that drips And from blocked nostril sipped The secretion hard as dried meat Choking off air Mother was too squeamish, too innocent About life and death to see the dwindling breath And too unfair to tell How all my money went to her pet desires Or what relentless hostility Pulled her from the home And how after her long time gone I just packed up and moved on As for the rope would let me go The attachment tugging at my heart For where I thought I left love I only came back again and again To find it empty And the new attachment buillt on words That was like a barbed fence On which I kept scratching my face Only silence was left That I could communicate with after that.