bend like a willow.

with an echo in the chamber

let go of loss, its empty space is not

a foundation, the notches carved

across your breastbone are not

the only way to hold space

dispel the value you have

tied to his verses, his mouth will tell

tales, memories will twist knots

around your wrists, the spaces between

will creak and moan with each exhale

stop leaving breadcrumbs

let him find his own way, tracing back

from north to south, you were not his

woman standing in the doorway, as the

moon dove deep inside the mirror

© 1.22.2018 heather brager

Zdzisław Beksiński