under the night fed
jasmine
i stopped to pray
i left offerings there
ones that can’t
be seen
but can be
heard and only when the
breeze makes perfumed
sighs out of their waxy
jasmine
mouths
i prayed until
i felt the howl of
all the ache swell
up until it
pushed against
my ribs
begging for release
until its sang itself out of
my heart and then
i walked on with
a long trail of
want vining
sleek and
flowering behind me
i didn’t need to
call you then
you were
already
right
here
i went looking
for a ghost in
the edge of it all
looking for a ghost
but found something
else
through the cloying wisteria
down the street where you
used to sleep
at the lakeside
feet in the water
head kissing the
stars
i found something else
still a blur
still a tinge of
blood
memory
and best
of all
the softness of
knowing
they tell you that
everybody works
so as soon as
you can you
play work
you put on your
name tag and you
work until your
legs feel like somebody
else’s legs and then you
work again
you take risky rides
because you don’t have
a car but you have to work
you will be later asked by
a doctor if you have been in
any accidents because you
are far too young for
your roots to be
twisting so
yes several car
accidents later
you still work you
sometimes work doubles
for the time and a half you
work more than one job
you play work you play work
you
play
work
until the day when
you tell your daughter
i can’t pick you up anymore
but i still have to work
i can’t walk for miles anymore
but i still have to work
i can’t lift without dropping it
but i still have to work
hell broken bodies
don’t make no
money
but i still have
to
work
you slip away
pearls in
your wake
knocking against
my dress hem
no anchors
to slow you
no nets to
confine you
no sharp barbs
to wound you
no desperate
clawing you
back to land no
only my sweetest
words
spun into
the most heartrending
song and there on
the rocks of your
great shore
i wait
patiently
before you left
you gave me opera
shoved it
in my chest
and flew the coop
before you left i
gave you mamaw blanche’s
secret to fried chicken
you made it for your
un-lover
who re-remembered
why you
are so
you
now that you’ve left
i want to tell
you how
much my joints
love global warming
just to watch
you laugh
once
more
Alysia Angel 