Take Back Control

I hold it beneath my fork,
your squirming betrayal,
examine it to see if it shows
signs of having come from me,
if I am its mother.

It isn’t the only one, my eyes
catch dozens of squirms,
a sea of betrayals remembered
in consuming wriggles
that overwhelm.

Will everybody let me down
eventually? Does the problem lie
in my expectation that they won’t?
That poor, brave expectation
on its last legs. Time to squash it,
take back control.