suitcase

You listen with your head

Tucked between your knees

As if my words rose in you

Like bitter black bile. Denial

Fans across your throat

Like the tentacles of some

Deep sea God strangling

Your voice and I have

Never heard you speak

The truth above a whisper

=

What is it that you are so

Afraid to know? Does my

Language falter like the

Withering steps of a mother

Who chose to leave before

Her children had the language

To question her retreat? Haven’t

I always been the one to cast aside

Pride and summon you home?

=

Unpack your bags, your voluminous

Threats, lets just rest here together on

The underside of a pale wrist in the

Deviant blood of an inherited pathos

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12 thoughts on “Suitcase

  1. I love how you ended it:
    “lets just rest here together on
    The underside of a pale wrist in the
    Deviant blood of an inherited pathos”

    “Inherited pathos” — wow, brava!

  2. ‘never heard you speak the truth above a whisper’, what a revealing and excellent line/image! Lovely read my dear. Sorry for my absence, a project is consuming my hours.

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