I imagine you sitting there at the table behind you
it is the table I look at, you are hidden in the foreground
in the shadows
framing the dining room like the pillar beside you
I imagine you sitting at the table growing
not old
the shadows wash away the lines that must be there
tulips
roses
something flowery in front of you
I imagine you sitting there at the table for years
did you paint the room
choose the colours
what is it like to be a mother
I turn the light up on my desk
a face can be like a word repeated over and over until it loses all meaning
are you about to laugh
even the ceiling makes me lonely with the light streaming in through the window