Poetry by Alex C. Eisenberg

              m66roepers CC



Trespass
                              CW: suggestion of sexual assault

              “Forgive us our trespasses, 
              as we forgive those
              who trespass against us.”

I learned the art of trespass
on the grounds of the church.

They kept the gate to the playground
locked which

is more than they can say
for their habits or their hands.

We’d ride our rusted bikes after
hours past the chapel. When

we were small we’d wedge our way
under the wooden gate. When we

were older we’d stand 
on each other’s shoulders. 

It must have left some marks
keeping these secrets but I

don’t remember worrying. We just
thought this was worship:

learning how to get away with things
when witness eyes averted but

once we were inside
I don’t remember

playing. The fun part
was the sneaking in and

the surreptitious
escape. 
​

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Alex C. Eisenberg (she/her) is a child of the western high desert and the pacific northwest rainforest. Her soul is rooted in these wonderful landscapes and she finds new tendrils of connection everywhere she goes. Currently, Alex lives by candlelight with her partner, their 5 cats, and an ever-changing number of chickens in the foothills of the Olympic Mountains. To see more of her work go to alexandriaceisenberg.wordpress.com and follow her on twitter @alexceisenberg.

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