Published in Levee Magazine, Issue 02, 2019


My wedding photos came back and

I didn’t look like memory.

My face a powdered expanse without depth, flat

as a Byzantine Jesus or maybe

the asphalt even. My mother was

like a wax figure under an unforgiving flame, her eyes

fixed somewhere out of focus, out

of the shot. I don’t remember my mother

playing Icarus or me playing the saint or

anything like that.

I remember my feet were swine

packed into two cruel cages, my back was braced

by stiff taffeta and twelve-hour smiles

and wishing I was at home

sleeping instead.

One thought on “My Wedding Photos

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s