MUSSELS

 

The boy played a game

tussled tracked walking back

Smiling and carrying my abiding care

heart tears

in a cup

I gave to him three years ago.

It was a Tuesday.

It’s raining and then it’s sunny

the river flows with god

Or something you promised me yesterday

And I don’t remember is it summer

Is it nighttime?

What is the forecast?

How am I supposed to be?

How am I supposed to be?

You tell me

I’ll read it in the manual

Sam gave to me

twenty years ago

drugged out from the marsh where we wake up

You

Tall and silent chattering meek me

Jumping to greet you

It was a steady stream

and then it was drugs and dreams

And I couldn’t believe

you gave me away.

And now here you go again,

the boy on my porch

playing games again

so much older now

So much more tacit

flying words with meaning out of my faucet

and then a drip drip

and it’s hush

hush.

And so I’ll touch you carefully

And I won’t speak loudly

How am I supposed to be?

fearful frightened child like again

Or risen like the small careful mussel shells that we found along the marsh

all those years ago.

You asked me to eat them

And I swallowed them whole

in front of you

And then

for the world

in front of the mirror

with the sign that says “Stay Out”

Don’t touch talk look scream rave

I will

I will

I will.

May 17, 2015