Inheritance

I know words

may do little to salve the trunk of heartache

But perhaps the roots,

can use some affirmation.

---

Stories of you, have been the stones;

A rogue memory’s bedrock,

The dirt and water, mossed footage

Your actions--motion pictured.

A dandelion sprouts out of the dug,

primal veiny misuse of rotten roots

Cleft at their bark,

Unsheltered arterial children.

Womb—Home--Mother--Earth

Parasympathetic nervousness

ravishing salvations laughter

time,

and time again

pulling me back.

Extremities furled

Yarn locked baby

Umbilical necklaced

"Don’t Push!"

Or "PUSH"

whatever the commandment,

no matter,

You saved my life that day.

You rest within my face(t)s

double helix--eyes, nose, gap tooth smile

Dad’s pictured too--in great relief,

the presentment of two souls

swaddled one,

like some double dutch stitching.

He says you met at a bar

I still have yet to memorize your number.

I rest my eyes on a photograph of you

Ocular assurance that my inheritance

Is different than my siblings’

And why is the image “spitting?”

Is it sick?

Has it run out?

Will it leave me?