his body sleeps low beneath the water,
you don’t know what you’ll tell your daughter.
but something else was underneath him;
demon, god-starved soul. a heathen
way to act, but they can’t blame you
for taking out the trash, the sinew
building up and stretching out;
she’ll never trust now what’s within you.
things which comes across as anger,
hatred, soul-suck, pangs of hunger,
birds of prey. a prayer for your town;
don’t let him wake up in the place where he drowned.
There will be times when the words don’t quite fit;
not inside your mouth, on your fingertips,
outside of situations in your head or near your hips.
There will be times when you’ll breathe much too fast
and regret will pool, and regressing snaps
you back towards yourself, away from my panic attacks.
There will be times that you’ll think back to me
and you’ll bite back sleep, and you’ll lucid dream
and conjure words that start with “L” and sometimes end in “E”.
Bodies thrown, pets un-owned, it’s socially accepted
that you’ll be feeling like this; part of coffee, pith, rejected.
The layer underneath, but not the layer that you need;
the day-old grinds, the white in limes, the red in eyes, the bleed
you feel between your skins after it’s felt inside your back.
Lines blurred, blankets furled, defensive of your tact
when showing off your strength turns into showing off your bends -
the weakest part, a joint, a dart, attempts to make amends.
Limbs ill-fitting, bone-links cracking, lines across your nails
from milk-drink-quitting, friend-forgetting or -regretting pales
beside the thoughts or worries on the topic of yourself:
contagious, unaccompanied, accustomed to the shelf.
But unaccepting of the thought of spades or shovels or a sift
through crumbled surface, hearts and clubs. I try to find or lift
the corners of the manuscript that won’t result in knowing
more than I permit myself to. No, the essay structure’s showing
when I’d rather keep it strange, remain a mystery to some
instead of handling chins, stuttering “It’s all been done,
there’s nothing left that I could do.” Keep trying. Don’t succeed.
The layer underneath, but not the layer that you need.
