Thursday, November 29, 2018

day SIX HUNDRED and SEVENTY NINE


Blur

Let's draw a picture of
just you and me
wait! there's mommy so she makes three
combs my hair with reckless
abandon
this blur has just come
and slipped it's
hands in
this is not the blur
it's not the blur
can't focus my eyes
too many thoughts collide
this isn't the blur that I saw last time
not the same blur
not the same one at all.

Feel it pushing past my teeth
rolls like dice
lands with a clink
snake-eyed blur staring up at me, this
shallow, worker-smith's heat
he says
aren't you awful shy, my love,
so here is what I think
it's not they or them
or you or I
shoved, as children,
into the temperance fire
my dark-haired darling,
we are meant to
have these trials.
Of course, I say,
of course.
I wait for someone to
pull me up from
out of this
forge.

- Cristina Kennington

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