sounds called what we would not say
until the shadows in our ears besieged
our remainders we screamed
for their release but they stayed
laughing into our wet faces
we could not see them
or our faces where we stayed
the stank breath of death rot
creeping through our breaths
stopping the songs
we meant to sing
of how we flew
after scratching our snakeskins
we were removed and outside
we could not hear the songs
in the street as the dragon still
spread the photos called
our monsters out
to hush them back
Time ran off
we had the babies’
toothless mouths looking back
lining their faces in half-moons
on our beds and with them looking back
we kited from the cells anchored
by the buds of lost mothers in our teeth
to one day fit ourselves back
into homes we had once carried
on our backs before we left
the sea
before the after
we left it
back there for the
sea
Oh Dear.
I feel so stupid.
I don’t understand.
Thanks, Granny. I felt this to be an unusual one, too, but I am limited to what comes up in the brief coffee window and some are definitely more strange than others. I think I can only write these about something I sense but don’t really understand : )