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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 12, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 12, 2018

A A A

A A A


shame, like an eclipse, leaves but totality where my heart lies buried in my ribcage–

occultation.

 

sundering of the soul, lit like flash paper coronal mass rejection–

mass? ask Higgs, only he can discern.

me? i am but a residual product.

 

after the first death, their curiosity atrophied.

and it was curiosity, after all, that killed the cat,

and it was curiosity too that was the cat’s salvation.

still they set decoctions at my grave,

one for hortensia, one of wormwood, and that last sidereal prayer–

an ophidian efflorescence (an ophelian evanescence)

 

pardon me, i can no longer speak for my own vindication,

the words stagnate in my throat–i choke–

and only zephyranthes spill forth from my lips.

my mame is a curse and a condemnation

and i will flay my chest upon her spires and i will become the darkness they always saw in me;

 

holding the severed self, i beg you–

say my name like I exist.


© Copyright 2018 Renata Sudek. All rights reserved.

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