Mother of the Other

Malleably mild:
part bunny-rabbit-puppy,
plush toy, cartoon child –
all make an iconography

of ache – seek safety
through the vulnerable
mute appeal of “cute” –
which masks a vast

far more acute enigma;
the Mother of the Other –
the repertoire of alter-egos
that comprise your

specious unity – what
strikes you in this one
resides, entire, in the eyes:
their indecipherable focus.

No locus for a thought:
no thought to find.
There is no way
to know its mind.

.