Kaleidoscope
Description
I sat by the wall as I removed myself from the world. My lap cradles my mother’s head, long strands of auburn silked with red. A year later, his stained hands stutter over my dead sight, a corpse hidden by the night.
Foreword
The first time I heard the uplifting tones of his flute, my father
broke my mother's jaw with the flick of his hand.
The second time I sat by the wall, absorbing myself into his rush, craddling
my mother's head in my lap, long strands of auburn silked with red.
The third time he stood next to the dumpster under my window, smiling
as they forced my face down into the vehicle, his long fingers sinfully dragging
across his instrument.
The last time he kissed across the lifeline of his right hand, sunrays caught on his dropped wooden heart,
as he molded his lips with the closed eyes of my corpse.
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