They told me as a child,
pick the fish-bone from your plate and go

quietly behind the one
who is choking on her dinner. Find

a way to deposit
that mineral sliver in her hair,

and she will be spared.
I believed without asking,

trusted without coiling
my spine. How is it possible

I could hold out my hand then
and touch, or hold, and nothing broke?


In response to Via Negativa: Self-exile.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.