alimary
The way she wrung her hands,
Then the tears,
Pit pat, pit pat,
Raindrops on the tin roof
Coursing down the lines of her face,
Notes on the page
Of her own sorrowful song,
Pit pat, pit, pat,
Writing it onto the walls,
The puddles on the floors.
I applied with two words in mind:
Something new.
I could go away, stretch out my fingers like feathers
And fall,
Bury my toes into a red, foreign earth
I could taste a new
"Hello,"
And a new way to say
"Spicy."
From this straight-backed chair
I can only see the glossy kitchen table,
Your cold stare
A cutting board
Those eyes
Destroying my heart.
And I used to wonder
How far the black-brown could go.
I place my hands palms-up on my knees
In supplication to the universe
To closely examine the wrinkles.
I was born with these
So they must come from God.
Left or right, left and right,
Ink stains held up by my psychiatrist,
Maybe my own body
My own hands that I use to brush my teeth
Have held the answer all along.
Her body is so narrow I think I could wrap my fingers around her ribs if I tried
Pick her up and place her in an elephant's mouth
Like a Polly pocket, or one of those wind-up toys
And if I squeeze too hard, she will break.
I get this feeling every time I look at her. That she will break.
I bend at the knees, as if in prayer
Cup my hands, my ladle.
To dip up the pool of water at my feet
Lift the cold, clear to my nose
As if in prayer.
And I slurp.
Slurp, slurp, slurp and swallow until my belly is a round, round globe
Reeling from the swish, swash, swish, swash
Speaking through its saturation.
What he did last weekend filled his weekdays
Knowing the 8 hour days would be filled with keystrokes
Awkward greetings, fluorescent lights
He wished the end would never start, never stop
Like the humming of the airconditioner.
Which side are you waiting on this time?
I can't see you in my peripheries
Your skinny arms reaching out to touch me
Again
My nose used to point north toward you
But now the field turned around and
I just want to run
Away.
We lost the red earth to the hands up above again
They took a shovel and dug deep down,
Splaying the red water everywhere,
Like raindrops or teardrops just trying to go home.
Politicians told me that I couldn't hold you in my hand
Like the paperweight my mom gave me when I was little
Because I opened the screen window wide
So the wind could blow through my hair
And eyelashes
But my papers scattered everywhere.
load more entries