Coming up for air

Coming-Up-For-Air-1-Alice-Wigley_2500When the moving vans took away a life

bundling it in storage, turning out fly swabbed light

when the house stood empty and of us, nothing remained

her death seemed to have resisted claim

yet she was no more there than mouse who leaves behind footprint and soft down of hair, gone beyond the floorboards

her family cleared out and dusted her remains, placed away in a china cabinet for someone

many years from now to produce a much touched pawn ticket, and re-varnish

she wondered

would they thrive without her?

in time, will her children recall the best of her?

or those days she stood tired and grumpy, keeping warm by the oven avoiding world’s bidding and invite

it was her shame

to waste so much time

if she had known she would have stepped from waxen kitchen like fire bird, gathered them in her arms and driven to the coast

to watch the rise and fall of life crashing on wave

and smell the turn of life, brimming with wet salt

she would have seen within her the burgeoning canker and cast it like a bottle of cobalt blue

out into the surrendering molt of waves, hoping it would lose itself and not return to erase her, premature and cruel

a reminder we are visitors

to this shore

not long in our stay

often missing our purpose, locked away in effort and grind, mowing lawns, picking up, wiping down, staring out into the immaculate disorder

she would have said to her children, take your shoes off, wriggle your toes in, feel the sand, the undone clasp, the undone movement

into life and laughter and sorrow, creating lines of wonder on our cheeks, run and run until your bird chest burns

scream into the sound

cover yourself with sun and never

ever

come up for air

 

poetry by Candice Daquin, first published on Hijacked Amygdala

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Disabused

dee1425102310418306849166b24e12din the shape of hurt

disabused crumbs that should have been cleared up

leave indents in her skin

the dirty light lets in patterns

betraying themselves in dent

sophomoric hush of fan

blowing away evidence

her nose stung

from her plunge

into white rabbit’s secret stash

her thighs burned

from the price

all dare-devils pay

her lips hurt

where he bit them

stain the world red

baby

he said

and pushed her head

down where the glory

hole and the mad hum

met and danced

in fish net

fling yourself open

oh no please don’t

smile until your skin peaks off

they’ll never know

pensive sadness limbering in the wings

hide …. hide

behind the downcast flicker

comedians you see, are often glad to make you laugh

for they get

in audience

to bedazzle

through the glamor you hide yourself

a slow leak of helium

deflating

out of sight

lest we reveal

motioning truth

behind our tight, painted smile

they made a pact

to promise the impossible

and she did

because to her

nothing was impossible

she could hold her breath

swim all the way to the end

rubber bricks don’t scare her

she is made of water

hefting it from its press

her fingers cramp

she tells herself

this is just like every day

we get up …. we hold on

grasping harder, she pulls

surfacing to the sound

of suffered world

with its groans and verucca socks

a response to noise

to lie just beneath

the surface

glimmering

letting fawn dappled light

reach through