Where Fools Once Stooped
Stone, I waited on the couch,
Listening with every fiber of my being.
Unmoved, I squeezed tight my breath,
Hoping to hear words which weren’t there.
But the words that were there
Cavorted around me
Conjuring a haze of muggy cutting surrealism
My knuckles turned white as death
As I abused the already-fraying edges of a throw pillow.
My sister’s voice resonated on the far-away side of the phone.
The haze lumped in my throat.
Stone-faced, I stooped only inches from the ground.
Heart unmoved, I suffocated the slightest breath of emotion.
Selfless and selfish
I wept a dry goodbye
And sprayed bleach on the blood-stained grass.
Each squeeze of the insolent trigger
Broke the night’s dead silence.
We spoke few words,
We let the night,
Speak for us.
I hunkered low,
Scouring for her life in the grass.
I traced the ground like a fool
Squeezing the trigger
Breaking the silence
Breaking the night
Breaking the death
Death was not broken.
Death lived in April while Life died.
Her life mixed with the red clay.
A vicious progression of red and red,
One evil, the other simply wandering.
No way to determine the evil from the misguided
So all are lost, but never forgotten.
I stooped closer as artificial light faded too.
Taking her then hiding her.
What else is there to give?
As I stooped
The cruel earth breathed a cruel sister wind.
My nose my mouth filled with
The wind breathed the taste of her life into me.
I’ll never forget the taste.
The taste of life.
Again, the fool,
I trace the memories.
I trace memories left in the ground.
Memories now left in the darkness.
I shine the fading beam on
The shadows of life.
I breathe a heady haze of
A once-dear friendship.
I wash away the memories from
What is now a lifetime ago.
Wash it away.
Thicker than water
But still washes away.
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