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.