This poem is about my identity as a person who has experienced domestic abuse. I am now a survivor, and I hope writing about abuse helps end silences that contribute to is continuation. I also hope this poem exposes some of the contradictions about abusive relationships; it goes out to everyone who is living with or has lived with abuse.
Summer Iridescence
May drizzles dangerous nostalgia
for summers sprawled lush and limitless,
as time enchants memory into illusion.
I remember palm trees, jazz fingers flying,
mocking the tempo of an indolent breeze.
I remember dawn claiming the sky
in a fuchsia slash, a tremble of cloud
skittering above peaks still capped in snow,
star soaked, open air nights, the consolation of fire,
the murmur of fountains, the shelter of story.
But I can’t remember what waited indoors.
I remember the seductive weight
of a sleepy toddler and the salt tang,
the shell speckled grit, of beach afternoons
the siren sea flashing spangles and frothing lace,
swirling dancing feet, tingling ankles and knees.
But I can’t remember if we could go home.
I remember the flash of dragonflies
drawing pentagrams in the air, their iridescence
spawning awe and a thousand questions,
puffballs of fledgling quail erupting
through a fence, smores and barbeque,
vinyl and card games, Kool-Aid and wine.
But I can’t remember who I had to be.
I want to remember the whispers of lullabies
and love songs, the path of a finger down a cheek.
I want to forget the menace in a silence, the invective
in a glance, the warning in an endearment.
I want to remember that I left and forget
that I went back, in the summer.