Another Chromosome

 betraying your confidence

and my pleasant memories

composed of Easter print,

my favorite holiday filling up with louder love-because-of-blood,

the piano untouched

except for dusting.

I am unable to ask the questions prompted by my mother’s omissions.

betraying your confidence

to a world who won’t believe in

rehabilitation—

I am one of them,

I am a betrayal.

I am trying to forget for his sake.

I blame someone else, the content;

I am trying to remember for your sake,

to ask nothing

when the glass goes around.

My littlest finger twitches—

though I remember the skin on his hand,

the bright red pinheads swelling—

it twitches,

betraying your confidence.

I am trying to block one ear like you,

straining out her crying out.

I halve him carefully, behind the handkerchiefs that smell like coffee,

praying those Easter prints won’t fade.

I’m sorry—

the cup is full,

the cup is half-empty;

I’m sorry,

the page is drinking

its contents;                             

I’m sorry,

I,

The Betrayal.