Rattle

Wed, 12/13/2017 - 13:09 -- kibesso

I couldn't have known what it was like to walk on broken glass.

I could not have known the crockery of the house we built would fall to the floor

shatter

and that the world would be okay.

 

I did not know to fear the delicate touch of your hands.

I did not now soft fingers carried lead weights.

I could not know what it meant to fear.

I could not know what it meant to hope.

I held my baby's rattle

And heard the hiss of the snake's venom.

 

It bit me, and it felt like a kiss.

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