End of…

If I were to come to the end of the world

Would you be there, waiting? Hungry? Unaware

That you are feeding your dying offspring with my tit

Now an udder?

That your lullaby is a funeral hymn?

That your husband is providing all; cornbread, rooftop but wallpaper orgasm?

Would you rinse your feet in the sand of a past river? Or you’d see the sunrise in your muddy toenails?

If I were to come, I’d be a passing rover, wouldn’t I?