Angel

She used to say her men smelled like water. They wore colognes with names like Ocean Blue and Pure Ice. “They’re lonely,” she would say. This one lost his mother recently. That one’s wife doesn’t give him what he needs.

Mother, where did you find these genteel men? All of my men smell like piss. I cannot help but wonder. If a mother is missing, if a wife is not enough, what are their visits to us but motes of dust with which they try to fill their emptiness? Mother, won’t you get out of bed and answer these questions.