crack open her heart and pour the thickened
liquid in a cup so I might sip on sadness pluck
dandelions from her hair scatter and wish her to the wind
finger the fine bones her inner ear vibrating silence
between us the stubborn bud bulldozed and paved
still finds a way to grow in cracked cemented spaces
push its head upwards towards the sun a single syllable
undone our words are final threads of an ancient quilt
exposed to air shredding there is there is there love
there the sky contracts expands at the whim of clouds
she parts and breaks a storm wets the east the south
the north the west of me I sip half empty her cracked open
©Ami Mattison, 2011
Previously published in The Maple Tree Literary Supplement, Issue 7, August 2010.
Previously published in The Maple Tree Literary Supplement, Issue 7, August 2010.
Excellent use of internal, off-kilter rhyming and an interior refrain--"is there"--really gives this piece character, and puts the message across, well-circled throughout and brought home in the final line, of things broken still living, even loved and well used.
ReplyDeleteWhat imagery! I especially liked the dandelion plucked from her hair and blown to the wind.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad I came back to read this one!