Reunion and Other Poems


Reunion

The legend where our eyes are made of light, the heart an empire—
I can’t remember it.


Don’t come back in here until you go back out there and knock him right back in
    the face.
That’s how it ends? Or how it starts?


I hit him and light ran down my face. My empire grew hungry
as only empires can.


It’s like a page in the dictionary,
the face. You can point anywhere and get something.


The abandoned hardware store watched over us,
the parking lot hemmed with golden grass,


asphalt rippling with August,
a black lake.


The bones in my hands were dreaming,
and the skin over them was covered with blood.


My grandmother saying good job by handing me a fresh bar of soap,
orange and heavy, like a jewel,


and letting me use the kitchen sink
and don’t get no blood on my countertops. It wasn’t mine,


the blood. I keep waking up
on the edge of the black lake.


He’s on the other side, the same age, sitting cross-legged
under a white sheet.


The white sheet stands, comes toward me.
Each step the dry scrape of a scythe through dead corn.


We’re both going to be destroyed. My face covered in light.
That’s how he can see me in the dark.
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