By Megs
Date: 18 March 2000
Untitled
She doesn't write about the bruises
She catalogs the birthes and passings of her family
In her calico covered memory calender
Records picnics to celebrate the first day of summer
Sets in bronze the memory of a double arch rainbow
Dries petals from the apology roses
Sort of skims over those weeks and months
Blank pages a stark reminder
Recollection accurate enough that she will never need to write it down
Story inscribed in the stitiches on her stomach
And the way her wrist will always ache when it rains
While she thinks of these things she etches his name in black calligraphy
Indeliable on the creamy pages
That is how she cheats her heart.
Looks at these pages
Only sees the good
How he came to see her every day and always brought flowers or a balloon
Or how he would call her mother's house every day when she was released
And tell her how empty the bed was without her.
He even cried.
White knight armor polished
Turns the page
Clean slate to fill.
She never writes about the bruises
Cause they fade away so clean.
Back to the Heart-on-Sleeve Corner