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It was two months after you left me
with a baby with wild curls
and no money in the checking account
and eyes so jagged
I saw the whole world in pain
I grieved in the beginning, in the morning, and
sometimes
I laughed but the rhythm was wrong.
I walked in and out of hallways
not sure of what I was looking for
but certain it was gone.
I was a graveyard of nothing
and a circus with too much
so I hid myself in the folds of the universe
and prayed for sleep even when I was awake.
I went on like this for sometime
not human
not ghost
just stuck between
the two
and still learning to be a mother.
Then one night my adopted sister climbed the
stairs to the room I shared with my wild haired baby
lay on the pullout couch with me that made up my
bed
ran her fingers across the jagged
scars over my belly
the heeps of loose skin
the scars -a soft plum,
and said it was beautiful.
Said it was exquisite
how my body looked
after creating so much.
and for the first time
in a long time
I breathed
the rhythm was still off
but the music was still there.
She had taught me
that
there was beauty
still
growing
in the plot I
had marked for a grave.
beauty -exactly where I was
not just an offering plate of broken glass
from the destroyed mosaic
It was two months
After you left me
With the baby
and the empty checking account
that I started
the
quest
home.

emily-home