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L'AMOUR APRÈS L'ABUS par Nathalie Guilbeault

Someone has died
Someone whose name I fold into
Someone who I fold into
Folded intentional wrinkle
But there are others
Living in those severed spaces
I am sharing into the severed spaces
What is a garment kept as memory
What is a cold cloth suffocated in a dark box and unminded
He kept so little in large boxes in a closet in a dark room and it was too much to admit us
The thought of his voice is the dark dust thickening the dark wood floor in the dark night
And layering darker and darker into morning
He has not died but I am mourning
The only thing he kept for us
Will burn

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Anon Baisch is currently a data analyst working in the semiconductor industry and lives in Saitama, Japan. Anon’s poems have been published most recently in Mantis Poetry, Levitate, and Second Factory. Anon’s collection Prelude to the End of is forthcoming in 2024 from April Gloaming.

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