Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Time Is A Mother

The Bull

He stood alone in the backyard, so dark

the night purpled around him. 

I had no choice. I opened the door

& stepped out. Wind

in the branches. He watched me with kerosene 

-blue eyes. What do you want? I asked, forgetting I had

no language. He kept breathing,

to stay alive. I was a boy --

which meant I was a murderer

of my childhood. & like all murderers, my god

was stillness. My god, he was still

there. Like something prayed for

Photo Credit: Tom Hines
by a man with no mouth. The green-blue lamp

swirled in its socket. I didn't

want him. I didn't want him to

be beautiful -- but needing beauty

to be more than hurt gentle

enough to hold, I

reached for him. I reached -- not the bull --

but the depths. Not an answer but

an entrance the shape of

an animal. Like me.

Ocean Vuong, Time Is A Mother (2022)

No comments:

Post a Comment