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Poetry

Shannon Hozinec

By September 18th, 2020 No Comments

AFTERIMAGE

 

if the body is unlit

I come for myself in the dark

when the night fields dare to flower

when I send for you

I crawl on my belly through the weeds

you found me, shaking

or else I drag myself through

among all my borrowed parts

the groves where nothing has grown

when I send for the dogs

I tread lightly in this dream of black water

with enough luck my hands will

creep by the awful light of the stars

like the whistle of the axe

through the doors I’ve built with their bodies

creep by the awful light of the stars

from the voices that cry out

blanched with atrophy

the primordial reflection

or else I drag myself through

the trick is to trick them into thinking there is a trick

the primordial reflection

with enough luck my hands will

of bark and berry, blush and bone

have begun to forget these human sounds

where the dead carry the dead on their backs

like the whistle of the axe

the trick is to trick them into thinking there is a trick

when I send for the dogs

the groves where nothing has grown

when I send for you

I crawl on my belly through the weeds

her body jerks like a pinned wing

where my loss lives as

where my loss lives as

the meridian of hoofprints

any withered thing

when the night fields dare to flower

blanched with atrophy

within an unseemly wood

where the dead carry the dead on their backs

and knowing this,

the meridian of hoofprints

have begun to forget these human sounds

hatching unbidden in the heart of her

in the dream where I climb a red ladder

among all my borrowed parts

the trick is thinking there is a trick

of bark and berry, blush and bone

I stuff my fist into my mouth and

the trick is thinking there is a trick

her body jerks like a pinned wing

and knowing this,

any withered thing

I found in you an answering darkness

hatching unbidden in the heart of her

you found me, shaking

from the voices that cry out

by the skin of my teeth, or yours, and

through the doors I’ve built with their bodies

within an unseemly wood

by the skin of my teeth, or yours, and

I understood your staunch refusal of loss

I found in you an answering darkness

in the dream where I climb a red ladder

I understand your staunch refusal of loss

I stuff my fist inside my mouth and

I tread lightly in this dream of black water

I come for myself in the dark

if the body is unlit

 

 

 

 

 

Shannon Hozinec lives in Pittsburgh, PA. Other recent work of hers can be found in THRUSH, Deluge, The Hunger, Palette Poetry, and elsewhere.