My sister lives in California; I think of her less than I should
(if you really want to know the truth).
Separated by miles, age, selfishness--we speak infrequently, our visits are few and strange. Do you really want to know?
Three nights ago, we met in sleep. I saw her emerge from my bathroom. Her blood in the toilet. Red between my own legs. Do you really want to?
My lower belly heavy. The forgotten movement of moons and months and blood and truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment