Monument

I take off that winter like a sports bra
eye bright woman with the roman nose, aqueduct back arch
denim on denim on I take off my skirt
in minutes and in front of no one
what kind of my people is this
a glass wren sweeping feathers from the museum floor
how bone-rag, my time stutter
how three-windless, our nightjars & nightsticks

be serious
there was a boy, wolf’s bane, bright
dress, fifth grade, what was
his name, worm
moon with the twenty-sided hands
and the milk-eyed curtain what room
falling where we I wonder
is he still a boy was he a boy then the mountain
snow melts the mountain flowers, sea-birds sling
their diamonds, their syntax
my people, my exquisite corpse-breath
and pronoun and softly and sister
forgive me

I’m trying I’m trying I’m trying I’m trying
to write a history of us
without writing a history of us
being harmed

but when I think about that day
it is not your name I remember first