Wednesday, April 24, 2013

(a dream-memory of H )

My eyelids are transparent. You are standing 
On the other side of the bed

Your body glimmers in the darkness  
I see the white bones of your skeleton

Do you remember the fish bone 
That got stuck in your gullet?

You said I was happy you suffered,
You were right, then.

It's good to see your bones,
Stay there, on the other side of the bed.

you smell of tunnels,
you smell of too much time.

You settle on me like age,
You descend on me like dust

Strapped inside myself
I shout,

Let me out

You can't. 

1 comment:

  1. Painting by Stephanie Anna Lightsmith.
    Poem by Ilana Haley