
This selection, chosen by Managing Editor Krista Cox, is from Open the Fist by Elya Braden, released by Finishing Line Press in 2020.
Woke
Like the gong of a bell in a Buddhist temple,
your mother’s slap will wake you
out of the stumbling stupor
of your ten-year-old life,
wake you up to the now
of swallowed tears and weak ankles,
a ruby handprint rising
from the dough of your face
like a starfish reddening on the sand
under the sun’s sightless stare,
your first glimpse of the Seawitch
skulking in the kelp-beds of the ocean-sharded eyes
of the dark-haired beauty you once called Mommy.
Later, you can scatter your mother’s ashes
beyond the rim of tomorrow,
but her crusted waters will flow in you forever,
in the curve of your chin,
the way your smile lists to the right,
the deliberate loop of your cursive “g,”
and the memory of her once, long-ago slap
still ringing, ringing in your ears.

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