debt

 

.
once,

a long time before
now, you told me

fear
is our response to
what we do not understand
the bones of your closed hand embedded
in my skin

we dream
with open eyes

wake fiercely in the pre-dawn

.
owl-light

to be afraid is to
be hurt

with outstretched hands
in the morning

your cup chatters against the saucer
china like bones

waves crashing
the mindlessness of cleaning hands, eyes
gauging the light blooming past the apple tree,
in flower,

the eastern hill
haloed

.
to come home to silence

no one teaches us that monsters go
back in the closet at daybreak
but we know we mean to be safe