The Silence

She took the spareribs out of the oven
and set them steaming on a plate
before leaving her apartment.
I didn't know how long to wait,
tore into cold meat when I decided
 
my mother wasn't coming back.
 
*
 
No one knew about the gun she kept 
in her purse until the authorities
called—a .38 caliber pistol
with a pearl handle and a trigger
even she could easily pull—
her car still waiting to be towed 
from a roadside ditch
 
when they arrived on the scene.
 
*
 
Yesterday morning, I was leaning 
over a kitchen sink, my husband 
upstairs sleeping. Between his snores 
muffled under a down comforter 
and a portable electric heater that kept 
our bedroom warm, I knew 
I could sob as loud as I wanted
 
without disturbing his dreams.
 
*
 
At the sports arena between musical acts 
and clouds of dope, I texted my lover 
a wide-angle shot of the stage—
the reception bars on my phone 
bouncing back and forth between high 
and low—a text I had to send 
several times before it went through 
even though there was a chance 
his phone would be off or the text get 
lost for hours in the ether, even days.
 
The silence is the agony.
 
*
 
My therapist says: It's not your fault. 
No way for you to have known 
exactly where your mother was headed.
 
Then why am I left weeping
in my kitchen decades after the fact?
 
When I went upstairs and sat 
beside my husband, he could feel 
the mattress shift beneath our weight 
even though I felt much lighter 
after watching translucent ropes of snot 
lowering down into the sink, arms 
around me when I asked if he
 
was awake, knowing that he wasn't.
 
*
 
How many romances get derailed 
when a text that has been sent 
fails to go through? How many mothers 
disappear through a kitchen door 
never to return—the food on the table
 
the last meal they will ever serve?
 
*
 
My lover texted back: where are you now? 
Having no idea what I'd been 
going through when he texted again:
 
Wish I was there with you.

Copyright Credit: Timothy Liu, "The Silence" from Don’t Go Back to Sleep. Copyright © 2014 by Timothy Liu.  Reprinted by permission of Saturnalia Books.
Source: Don't Go Back to Sleep (Saturnalia Books, 2014)