It was ages since we ‘d met. I dread her visits.
The melodrama and discord leave me unmoored.
My sister’s hugs morphed into stones, dropped one by one.
Words hitting dark water. Circles of disbelief spun around me.
Not one scintilla of truth.
I glimpsed her self-satisfied smirk.
We’d been close in our teens…
A deep breath. No , Sis, it never happened.
She tossed her curls. But I was there. I saw you. Him too.
and hypnosis bring her easy certitude?
She glared. It’s true. Do you think I’m mad?
Copyright © Decima WRAXALL | Year Posted 2020
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment