I See the Room Where my Mother Will Be

I see the room where my mother will be
Clean and yellow-white
Clean enough to wipe a tear away, as if she'll die on impact.

I see the room where my mother will be
It smells like flowers
Like that in powder to clot the surgical drip as if it will keep her bound.

I see the room where my mother will be
It's as if she'll die there
As if she'll waste away.

I hear the room where the gossip will be
I'm sitting on her linens. 
A shrill laugh erupts over Doritos, as if she'll waste away.

I see the room where my mother will be
I'll channel the waste
And without haste
I'll leave let her sleep.