Willow Hollow

Piles in the basement of worn out socks. I wore them so long they shattered. My toes grew and grew. My legs shrank to compensate. Before I knew it I was walking on all fours, on all twenties. Rocks became my supper. Eagle’s eggs my breakfast when I found myself hanging upside down before the Lord. Twigs and berries of our yesterdays. The days she came to me in silence, slipping out of her long underwear. We touched each other in the snow. I lay there remembering her soft grey fingers on the nape of my neck. My lungs left through her lips. Wet spots trailing up to heaven. The snow of unimaginable weight. I went looking in the wilderness. All I found was willow trees bending and breaking by the water. Don’t you know how weak they are? Don’t you know how weak I am? My clothes have all been cleaned out. My spines have all been removed. I am left with nothing but cartilege. No way for me to stand strong, to stay upright. I loved you like a lightning rod. I stood where you struck me, swaying gently in the breeze. That’s the way this always ends.