11: April 2016 #12 - Absolution
Authored by Susan Konz
by Susan Konz
I dream he’s next to me in seagull sounds The air is pulling out to sea, tastes like salt I’m lost. He’s not mine - It doesn’t matter some daughter telling me I’m slipping - no this is not what she says, she says, It doesn’t matter we just need to get home, but I’ve forgotten topography, landmarks fade on sight – the azaleas outside my mother’s house are dripping pink. The corner mailbox bluing as she fades & I can’t help when he comes plotting me, giving me details on how we’ll hide what we’ve done. What we’ve done is something to do with cracking eggs in the dark, has to do with deshelling. Signs are flashing – nonstop violence all night free I’m wide awake it’s morning. I’m listening to the phone ring, but won’t answer I’m trying to weigh a wrong done with half a heart He’s walking now ahead of me, bowlegged like my father both knees cocked back unbending he’s lilting as I’m fingering the stones incanting to the pure all things are pure, but there’s no give. He takes my arm and squeezes tight This will leave a mark he says something you can be sure of.