Maybe

Meghan Violet

I forgot to see mother in my dream

Last night 

She wrote as if I had 

Rolled into the drain 

Of the double kitchen sink. Inside out 

As cow meat bled fevers 

Into night sweats. 

​

Maybe it's weird. 

Not because heat should take

Away blushing. 

Or that limbs should keep 

Drying all over again. 

But because I've taken part In a mind 

I’ve stopped remembering. 

​

Maybe the drawers were always

Slightly off their hinges. 

Or maybe not. 

But what difference 

Does wood make to a mind

Stuck 

In its own version of things? 

​

I say nothing 

Means much to me anyway.

Not the dishes 

Swimming in chicken broth.

Or the sky 

Spilling soap into mouths 

Too young for showering. 

​

In the rain 

She says maybe 

The lakehouse. 

I say nothing and mean it 

Was never on purpose 

I think 

This dream is enough