it is at nights by Myriam Klatt
not one of us suffered more than our fair share but what is fair if your home has betrayed you
it is at nights
by Myriam Klatt
it is so hard to switch between voices was l milk or wine or was I the tear undulating I have cried mountains have torn plates of liquid gold into prayer have bitten my flesh with a jadeite tooth gifted to all of our gods in equal measures: the torn out eye of a horse three rings of a birch tree and two beating hearts yet I still cannot dream open-chested like a songless bird it is at nights that I was the heavens I was the treetops I was the crescent I was the grounds where if not here who if not me to mourn the passing of silence the tongue tied slices of ambers where if not here who if not me to hold back fountains so that we can emulate the rising of a thousand suns the crashing of a comet the edges of a universe folding itself into sheets of ice I forgot the words forgot how to accept to be crippled the peg leg of my father a knocking on wood only my father had no peg leg and not one of us suffered more than our fair share but what is fair if your home has betrayed you a long time ago if rightfully all you can ever be is guilt or shame a molten lava crown making your hair burn it is at night