Page 7 - Chimera by Hannah Sheridan

Dust to Dust
Silver hands, he probed up one nostril Groped around all my cobwebs Glistening just the way I like them He took no time to pause
No time to smooth back peeling wallpaper Instead, he sent mercury
Pouring out of my ears
Dusty lips, I sleep in linen
Burnt wax paper
Faint translucence
I have lived here in my glass case for decades I do not recall
Strawberries, sultry scent
Plucked wild and ripe
Costing only the summer’s first sunburn
In slumber
I return to his voice
Trace the timbre of his promises Etched in the tissue of my eyelids
He would press the soft
Brown diamond on my chest, feel that? Yes, in these catacombs
yours is the only taste that lingers
If I could sing
I would not use his words
My tongue would search for the forgotten syllables
That once spelled my name
A melody my mother hummed only for me Still, I comb sandstone
passages that erode more with every
stroke ofrevisiting fingers
I fly through my range
Cry foreign notes
Pull close cold stars and place
Each sparking kernel on my tongue
Before discarding it for the next