aquarist

your mother is the type of woman

to kill her fish from overfeeding,

believing they are still hungry

.

my mother is the type of woman

to say, They’re fine

and a week later, find them dead

shrugging off her neglect

.

I am the type of woman

to rescue the sick in the stores,

bring them home after thorough preparation

control the entropy of their environment

(because I never could for you)

only to lose them to disease anyway

.

you are the type of man

to take one look at the mortal creatures

and tell yourself to remain unattached

it makes it so much easier, you say,

to feel nothing

when they’ve

gone