“Knot”

In sound and fury we hold back muted cries
Over, under, our mouths of crosses
Over, under, the silver, the drag

Our eyes are wide, wild, and tender
The blinks that masks our pain of speaking
So speak we not,
Over, under.

Our cheeks are red, pricked, and rouge
Forward movements of yes and no’s
Backward movements to adamant silence
Another x.
Over, under.

One more chance to move our tongue
One more cross of black lined thread
The final glimpse of silver bobbing,
Over, under

the thread detached.

“Peel”
Good bye you say, you waved your hand.
You were dressed in white, aged, and peeling.

I’m dying you say, you moved your mouth.
You looked at the window, white and saddening.

A quick hand
A door opening
The slow movement
ash sizzling.