Memory 27The wide moon was watching when I arrived at the house. I saw how tired it was, the dark streaks of pollution running down the walls like a mess of wrinkles, the white paint shone dully duner the orange street lights. Thick shadows dragged over bicycle racks, carpeting their rusted limbs and blending them into the wall. The air smelled faintly like cooking, savoury meat and salty wine with coarse spices, fresh vegetables. I felt the dew forming, collecting in the space between my nose and cheeks, it felt cool and clean. I saw the iron bars extending from the windows, their paint now chipped. Designed to "keep out thieves", these were the sameMemory 27
Nightthe still breath of the night not a whisper alive enters the daughter parting the air like soft hair the fire of her presenceNight
into the heart of the father the scent of imperial koto mauve wide moon watching
the warm void asleep beside you your husband is gone do you realize? lightless lashes fighting to stay apart
as the father heeds the flower her eyes wise beyond their years &
Happy
Joy
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