Absolvement
       

I turned to the sky, that soft nameless dark,
the saline drying on my skin,
the lemon juice I swallowed to stave off want,
the salt I rubbed on my gums until they burned,
sun reddening my skin into something else,
my body, yes, how I hoped
not to recognize it in the morning.

The hurt was a thing we swallowed until it corroded,
in the night, we think to be something more
than tinny stars. But all we ever do is turn our bodies
inwards to the copper dirt.

Though saints would wrap their own breasts with thorns,
I would give up my safe ruin for when her hands were on me,
but only in the dark, where we don't have to see what we've become.

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Copyright © 2022 Brynne Rebele-Henry All rights reserved
from Prelude
The University of Pittsburgh Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission