A Kind of Rescue
Can't inhale any more
of his boulder-sized words,
droops, like a fox's tail caught
in a shower of rain.
His rage has turned her upside down,
bringing out the other one,
like a whale leaping from the ocean,
while she disappears
Later, comes to, to find herself
carried in a cradle of human arms,
panic hitting her in the throat,
tries to cover them, looks up
to see a corridor
of huge trees peering down,
green faces leaning.
Across the sky, a white arc
wakes the beginning of memory,
then a mighty uprush, burning;
his smiling mask,
casually, as though talking
of the weather, or moving house,
eyes fixed as poignantly
as a bridegroom waiting for his lover.
Arms release her at the door,
and she ducks behind it,
fragments of a hide-and-seek self
flicking into place
like a coin into a slot.
On the camber of her hips, evidence
(First appeared on Poethead, a blog by Christine E. Murray)