Fleeting

Fleeting
from Prima Materia, 2018
 
These pasty arms made of plaster
hold the imprint of your tiny body
 
shrivelled little thing
 
The hands remember the feel of rubber
— a ball of elastic bands folding into lumps
 
Your vernix coat, moisturiser
with a water-base, it washes away
but my mind refuses to
clean the memory with a towel
 
Could I make buds of it, scented
and stuff them up my nose
to block out the dreaded aroma of roses?
 
Gazing into pools of dribble
cobalt cries
that scratch the marrowbone clear out
 
Hollow bones for rattles
shredded nerves
in place of peas or dried rice
 
There is a nagging feeling
that soon, crow’s feet
will not be the only pattering, and
learning to fly will shortly follow
 
I’ll watch you float amongst the stars
Selene in orbit
with Leo stalking close behind