September 2019, by Nicole Brissette
How different the sound and pressure feel
Crushing coffee beans, ice cubes and millipedes beneath a rubber soul.
To have crushed so many that this is something able to be distinguished.
To reluctantly have put several half crushed bodies out of their misery
After
Watching them walk backward
With crushed heads.
My heart crumbles with them
Compresses before reassuming its shape
But
It's just a bug
Remember?
September,
Heart bruised from fighting the same shoe
Wildly Kicking
Remembering singing and peddling the pink bicycle he painted for me
In a dream
Remembering waking up to rude awakening
Re-remembering how to love self-
Effacing the way we love each other.
The bridge built over our water
Resembles grey milk, gritty fog
Our vessels go pressing on if only because
They can still hear the horn on the shore.
Remember the sound of salvation
Remember the pressure of an embrace
Remember the way you felt
Before you had the option of remembering
All of those physical and mental deaths
How could you forget?