Lidia Torres [*] I clean my m...

Lidia Torres [*]
I clean my mother's corpse
abandoned drawn out ago by its brain small rooms
She allows me to propel her limbs,
tell her skin, yielding
like an infant. Prying into the deepest
places, she cooperates sensing that
this is beneficial The body does
what it must then we are left
to clean up Work that she no longer
comprehends. As I wrap the diaper
around her waist, I have feeling her
lumpy belly, first abode
to ten children she patiently
cleaned and wrapped.
My reflection suiteds hers.
'Scucha, she says.