Ismene’s Thirst

1 May 2018

in this binary library
a murder of fictions
crows gather in corners
it is work to witness
question marks polished apples
witnessed by medication

one side limp
I called an ambulance
this memory smells nutty
the first line I trusted

hot under a tree in the outback
a bag of lychees
declarations of love are not

front teeth crack the husk
translucence of trace

the bee on my chest witnesses the space between beats
I dusted my brother’s body
the dandelions nod affirmation
the butterfly heavy with the want does not land

the day I went to get results
my notebook opened an incision
lay lined
an inky river

the little boy runs into
my failure of ground
there is a beach where the two rivers meet
the Jamieson the Goulburn

not remembering protected them from the birds and their crimes

a woman on a horse tells us one river is warmer one faster

standing in water two arms end in a heart

their crimes fell like coins out of holes in the lining
yellow leaves are boats moving as fast as the colluding current

I have to stay till arrival happens
medicated into the seams
two elbows on the table
the wood smells like old books
my notebook spread fightless

a muddy pond of tea cools in my hands
sitting in the wind of hospital corridors

cockatoos rip apart the morning
the river swallows the fall
my mother raised her arms in prayer to the clothes line

blood flows from the left atrium to the right
the flies land on my denial
the privacy of grief

she took her two hands off her walker
onto my shoulders
pegged me with prayer

the two rivers don’t meet
the Jamieson ends in the Goulburn

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