Controlthere is a mother quivering and scared in my assertion of needscomecontrolthere is a blackness where she speaks hope in silent bubblesI watch them rise and wander through a white rectangle stone windowthey are just visiblepast the thorn maze of her regretsa crippling spider of tension in my muscles as I stepthere is a mother holding her breath, grating her teethin time with my footfallsIhave escaped her hands but I might yetfeel a cement slosh and set in the veins of my feet, herbaited silencemight just be the ocean my lungs rush intomy ankles tie