Why did you look back?
Did you miss
the gossip of
the women
doing wash?
Did you fear
you left
the door wide
open by mistake?
Did you hear
the cat cry
out your name
and ask for food?
Your answer
is a secret
that you keep
within the crystals
that deform you
from a woman
into salt.
Snow stars
melt under the weight
of empty apologies.
Bruised butterflies
cover lips
afraid to speak.
Children race
down hallways
waving scissors and knives
to cut through the tension
that blocks all the doorways,
to cut themselves
into paper hearts
to ease the pain.
Clouds blanket
the night sky,
put starlight to sleep,
but dreams put on
swim fins and jump
out the window
as light shatters
cloud banks,
to swim with
the mermaids
in pools of moonlight.
You send your hands
to shop for food
you hope she’ll eat.
You grab her mail,
her friends all dead,
the mail is junk.
You send your hands
to grasp the rail
to her front door.
The paint flecks in
your palm, worn through
by rain, by heat.
You send your hands
to turn the key
to her front door.
The lights are off.
You find her cold
in bed, she’s with
her husband now.
You send your hands
to hug your mom,
and wipe the tears
you cannot stop.
They drench your face.
They fall, and fall,
and fall.
Pull yourself together
you’re not a colander of pasta
laying limp, wanting butter,
wanting teeth.
Nolcha Fox - Nolcha’s poems have been published
in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Alien Buddha Zine, Medusa’s Kitchen, and others.
Her three chapbooks are available on Amazon. Nominee for 2023 Best of The Net.
Editor for Kiss My Poetry and for Open Arts Forum. Accidental
interviewer/reviewer. Faker of fake news.
Website:
“My Father’s Ghost Hates Cats”
“The Big Unda”
“How to Get Me Up in the Morning”
Twitter:
@NolchaF
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/nolcha.fox/
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