Did You See Him
in every mirror did you
hear him behind each door another coat
your lips red orange painted courage cracked
when your son left you
didn’t dare ask or dig past his veins collapsed
he moved on clefting the web
of skin between his toes.
Your new slipcovers
brightened the living room
which was never truly warm.
He came back
woodstove gone cold
seizing not quite convulsing
spit gurgling not throwing up not
that there’s ever any noise when
winter nights turn black his eyes
then back to you
and Dad then I got shooed
back to bed
Darcy Smith works as a sign language interpreter. Recent poems have appeared and are forthcoming in New Reader Magazine, Sequestrum, Coe Review, Two Thirds North, January Review and River Heron Review. A Buddhist and a kickboxer, her current obsession is executing a six punch three kick combination with perfect form.
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