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Periaktoi Writing Post

Volume 55
Issue 1

Single Visual Art Post

  • Poetry
A Deep Blue, A Shallow Black
Mazie Mitchem
No one is here but everyone is watching.
My mother loves black, but really I don’t know
If only my feet had somewhere rather than my feet to go.
Like the taste of words better left unsaid
I am grateful to you for my borrowed head, and my house that stands and the doors that lock, I care more than I should, I don’t care enough but I care a lot
So I’m grateful, I’m never not.
I remember my dress, I remember yours, I remember things that can’t be bought yet I remember what we wore.
You wanted the sun, I wished for the rain
The curious cat and walls that dripped disdain.
Something shouldn’t be touched, something shouldn’t sever
In a way, in some ways, always and never.
The scent of decay as cloth memories fray, like passing clouds grey as winter’s day
Like us to heaven, like us to the grave, I’m not proud to say I stole everything you gave
Watch out
I am grateful to my mother for what I have and what I lack, a sorrow so deep it’s blue and a dull, shallow black.