He was dumb and clumsy
because Mother said so.
He gave and took pain
Arbitrarily, like God.
He could draw it out
through the head, strung on a cord
from the base of the spine.
Full moons of his fingertips
Let ache flow upward, red balloons.
Childish things collapse and fade
The flat of my skull
a steady reminder.
Crib to wall to floor
to heaven I can fly
Vomit in my hands
Bloody fluid clumps
like birds fly away
Occipital
Fracture
Aspiration
Last Rites
Deliver me
Yarn dolls, braided hands
The heaviness of my head
Whispers of the sisters
I sleep sleep, delivered.
He takes me home again
steals me back in March
Cracks in the pavement
Separate this day
Home, his hands call out pain
Salt in my mouth
Fragments of light heal
and hammer me.
Home, his hands on my head
Draw back the pain.
Half moons of his fingertips
Cast shadows of regret.
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