your lips are moving, your
hot mouth forming phrases that you
pocketed after dragging the creek for
remnants and comparable bodies
you were taught to fill space with
excuses, justification for why
you have been missing, validation
for the reasons that you keep
coming.
back.
I envision your body sitting still
long enough to feel
the mud settle against your skin,
knowing I could see you drift away
if the water was clear
I calculate and edit for days
until your reappearance, the
creature of dismissal birthed in
your absence slides out of its den
with an articulate strike,
and like the opportunity, you
are gone.
© 8.31.2023 heather brager
