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You return to see if I have anything left
you can devour; I protest, but you take me
in your hands, molding me into what you
desire. You pick at me with your forked
tongue, sauté me in sugar and spices, fill me
with wine, then put me in the fridge to keep
until the next bewitching hour. I sleep
only during the day, watch TV with all
the lights turned on, until I believe
you are gone for good. Then one night you
materialize from nowhere with your silver
spoon, dish out your sad story on me. Slowly
I warm to your fire— I want to fight, I want
to remember, to torture myself. After you get me
cooking, you take out the carving knife to see
if there’s any heart left in me. Suddenly
I understand…you will not leave me
alone until you have picked me clean
to the bone. I crawl away, and try to excise
your evil memory. Slowly
I heal, gather heart. A shadow falls
across the wall. Here you come, again.

 


Wynne Huddleston is a member of the Mississippi Poetry Society and the Mississippi Writers Guild. Her poetry has been, or will be published in Birmingham Arts Journal, Stymie Magazine, Southern Women’s Review, Gemini Magazine, Raven Chronicles, Camroc Press Review, Calliope Nerve, Short, Fast and Deadly and elsewhere. Visit her at http://wynnehuddleston.wordpress.com/

© 2011, Wynne Huddleston

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