The boat shakes, shocked by
sprayed sea. My static scene
lays serene though, gripped
in taut fingers. Small world globed
against the rain, a faded testament to
skinned knee kisses, satin sheets…
Eyes search the room. She peeks
under her armoir, collapses
aloof on the bed. Giggles vibrate
velvet curtains. She
pretends. Father interrupts, run!
…the pitch scrapes me off buckling
knees. I collapse. Shaking among refuse. Rain
eases tears along. The snow playfully
swirls inside, settles, taunting.
Charcoaled remains. Screams, long past, echoed
from the forest. I listen to them for days,
rooting around, rubble. I find my mother's
snow shaker.
All that’s left.
Lightning drifts down to settle on the
waves. “You! Bendivuer! Get below deck. I’ll
not have an overboard.” He whisks it
away. I stare. He snarls. “Give me that thief! No wonder the
last ship didn’t want you, waif mute.”
I scour the deck. I find a coin, my mother's
only truly, from the house. I cry, clutching it, serene. Globed
against the rain. Waiting for
everything around me to settle in its place as the boat rocks
back and forth, so many
falling flakes.
She smiles.
I say, “I love you” back to her.
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