repeat/taeper
year-worn
December, again, holds you by the throat with a smothering
childlike harshness, holds you feverish in its baby fist and limp
like a plush bear with loose stuffing, year-worn. Generous in its
ability to prop you in place, to woo you with unhurried technicolor.
/
December, again, with eyelashes pointed down, pulled like a
window shade, a sleep/awake doll waiting to be tucked in, still
counting on the rustle of dreams. You move with dead batteries:
stand, crawl, hunch. Collecting, compiling, dust-sweeping.
/
December, again, is antsy in the way that you itch a molting
wound. Hovering over candles, humming 'now' now, 'always'
always, the hatching of rituals in splintered wood, the sound
of bells - web-weaving - remembrance like a knot in the spine.
_____
Publication credit: "repeat/taeper" first appeared in Reverie Literary Magazine Issue IV
About the Creator
Erin Latham Shea
Assistant Poetry Editor at Wishbone Words
Content Writer + Editor at The Roch Society
Instagram: @somebookishrambles
Bluesky: @elshea.bsky.social



Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.