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Their Violent Scent
December 9, 2014
I needed to keep them gone,
those things away,
the ones that keep me looking at someone
in the morning, on that frame that hangs above the sink
bewildered, unrecognized
those violent ponders
those memories we can’t remember, imagine,
maybe in the way we can smell something
that isn’t there
the wind we inhale
someone who
used to know us,
we swallow those memories away
to a mahogany box,
Their wool woven sweater.
They’re gone.
But there.
© Sarah S., Poland Spring, ME
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