Obsession

By Afra Ahmad

A man without limbs

grapples with negativity

to function properly.

 

She is not

just my mother.

 

The voracious nooks

and crannies

of this house

have been nudging me:

who will tend to us, now?

whose smile will

warm us up?

 

In response to

their plea,

I holler:

who will lull

my insecurities to sleep?

who will wipe

my profuse tears?

 

An obsession

with a mother

is different than that

with a lover –

you wouldn’t have

arrived here

without a mother,

 

you have dwelled

near her heart

before entering

this realm

of murkiness and exhaustion.

 

Without her

every magical thing

that encompasses me

becomes meaningless,

 

without her

the synonym of

everything

is

nothing.

 

She is akin

to my limbs.

 

In her absence,

I resemble a man

without limbs;

 

In her absence,

I resemble a boat

adrift on the sea.