overwhelmington:

RIVER

Another word for open wound. We wear
our snowboots, dredge the banks:
hand mirror, lawn chair, toy truck, drowned.
In a small town,              it’s less simple,
the things we choose to leave.
                                       A childhood. A body.
This year no lambs, just snow, a fleece.
Just water, black, bruise blue.
Nearby, a hawk pulling the face off a rabbit.
Just the both of us,
                                       husked, spit.
You’re trying to walk away
from that bridge inside you         but it stays.
You’re trying to forget
that night black              as water, water
                                                  blue as shame
There are things we accept but don’t say.
In a small town, a girl goes missing
and everyone knows
                                     to check downstream.