A child falls from the stroller in suburbia
The child’s whole body shatters into bloody, meaty chunks
perfect size for stir fry meat
Mother gathers all the meat into the crib
She whips up stir fry using her child’s meat and the vegetables from the freezer
unused, unloved, aspirationally frozen since last summer
(simmer, simmer)
Presenting: the dish to her husband
Tears in his eyes:
“The most delicious meal I’ve ever had.”
Mother smiles softly
(simmer, simmer)
As the husband eats the child stir fry, he melts, made of wax
Mother watches, soft smile sad
Her husband has melted away
thick wax residue
all over:
the table
the chair
the floor
Mother scoops him up
chisels the wax with a spatula
gathered into several tupperware containers
The whole night is spent making candles
out of her husband’s wax
and strands of her hair
(simmer, simmer)
The early hours of the morning, the first glimpses of that cruel sun who never takes a day off:
Mother’s head is shaved
plucking was just too much
Hundreds of candles
Mother lights the first candle
a lighter with only a single drop of butane left
All candles light in solidarity with the first
The whole house lights
a hundred candles is a lot of candles
Mother becomes ash on the wind
The ashes go far
far
far
A speck of ash lands on the hand of a child whose mother puts her in a stroller
a walk around suburbia
(simmer, simmer)