I Forgot My Skin Was Ruin
I forgot Mohammed welcoming Jews and Christians for they, too, are “People of the Book.”
I forgot the air of a country where the love for a woman is the love for a man is the love for Allah!
I forgot authenticity always wanders.
I forgot defining ambition as the helpless compulsion to write songs for women who will never wear headscarves.
I forgot we accepted a colonizer’s alphabet in exchange for electricity.
I forgot he learned her body as a white finger holding back starlight.
I forgot symmetries shaped by memory lapses.
I forgot the empress humming calculus.
I forgot the weaver who formed holes shaped as tears.
I forgot You there with blue veins cracking transparent membrane.
I forgot preening over a labyrinth.
I forgot the skin of jasmine mirroring sky.
I forgot a girl loving marble enough to freeze into a swoon.
I forgot a white azalea quieting shade into a girl.
I forgot desiring most when it rained.
I forgot the plankton beneath the wave, radiating from green to gold with the onset of wet sunlight.
I forgot how dusk enhanced conversations.
I forgot cheer dispersed through fishnet stockings.
I forgot “Mutual Funds” is an oxymoron.
I forgot the momentary immortality of a new car.
I forgot Manolo Blahnik’s elegy for crocodiles.
I forgot how effectively lineage seduces.
I forgot the Bengal Tiger mimicking a helicopter’s dance.
I forgot “abashed aubergine.”
I forgot vivid is subjective.
I forgot fear is a loss.
I forgot Beauty can be reasonable.
I forgot envying the thorns.
I forgot a pedestal bloodied by what who leapt from it.
I forgot belting my jeans with a used halo.
I forgot my feet mischievously walking two inches above ground.
I forgot a girl shrieking as her swing soared towards a boiling sky.
I forgot your fingers reaching to caress the hollows formed when my knees bent.
I forgot the violet bruise from a rifle’s intimacy.
I forgot birds forming a toupee for trees.
I forgot the big-bellied man whispering Murder can remain mere story over a cigar smoked
down to the length of my then-enchanting thumb.
I forgot your hands paused before my black brassiere.
I forgot you reminding, “Honey, angels may fall but they never die.”
I forgot to be an angel is to be alone in a smudged gown, fingers poking through holes burnt
I forgot drinking from ancient goblets whose cracked rims snagged lips into a bleeding burning.
I forgot my skin was ruin.
I forgot the baby rattlesnake staining asphalt green after it was ran over by a neighbor who,
it was rumored, adored massive mahogany libraries jam-packed with cracked leather covers,
yellowing pages, and wisdom best left forgotten.
I forgot the
difficulty in dying the world saw me as a humpback.
Eileen R. Tabios loves books and has released about 40 collections of poetry, fiction, essays, and experimental biographies from publishers in nine countries and cyberspace. Her most recent is INVENT(ST)ORY: Selected Catalog Poems and New 1996-1915 (Dos Madres Press, 2015). With poems translated into seven languages, she also has edited, co-edited or conceptualized ten anthologies of poetry, fiction and essays in addition to serving as editor or guest editor for various literary journals. She maintains a biblioliphic blog, “Eileen Verbs Books“; edits Galatea Resurrects, a popular poetry review; steers the literary and arts publisher Meritage Press; and frequently curates thematic online poetry projects including LinkedIn Poetry Recommendations (a recommended list of contemporary poetry books). More information is available at http://eileenrtabios.com
librecht baker. Dembrebrah West African Drum and Dance Ensemble member. Kouman Kele Dance and Drum Ensemble memeber. MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts from Goddard College. VONA/Voices & Lambda Literary Fellow. Sundress Publications’ Assistant Editor. Poetry in Writing the Walls Down: A Convergence of LGBTQ Voices & CHORUS: A Literary Mixtape. Currently, birthing & manifesting.
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