Mother’s Hips

In the dream someone keeps repeating 
that my mother is dead. 

I keep saying no, she is frozen
because she is of the frozen people
who can’t recover from never being safe.

My mother looks at me as though she isn’t here,
stares at an invisible constellation.
	
In the dream I prop her up against the wall,
teach her to give birth to the north node. 

In the dream she is slumped over the toilet,
ambulance siren closing in, another Valium overdose.

In the dream I tell her my name four times,
wait for her to say my name please say my name.

In the dream my mother’s pelvis murmurs in blue. 
It tilts toward the hinge of shivering.

In the dream she fades under a male corpse.
She doesn’t say I can’t speak but I hear her.

In the dream the cat we named Nina appears.
Her onyx fur reflects flying stars. 

In the dream Nina is warm to the touch.
Mother’s eyes the color of milk.