Pearl

a poem

I am something slimy and ashy and sick
Dry as a bone and still too slick to keep hold of
A black pearl slipping between your gnawed fingers and rolling into the gutter
It is not nicer here in the drain
Will you please pick me up again, this time I will try to hold still
I will lock my knees until I faint
 
I smell bad and taste worse
Creeping, tortoise-like, stuck in the middle of the road outside your house
Pathetic and reptilian
 
You are your mother’s child and it haunts you
I am your mother’s biggest grief, giving you a ghostly reprieve
She thinks it happens with my head between your knees
But in reality, we go to the park, walking listlessly
Slow slow slow, two turtles in the creek, heads creeping out of our shells
Or at least we used to be
 
I know I am something oily and dark
Something you try to scrub off in the wash
But you won’t take off the sheet, won’t let the water touch
Because what is an oyster without its pearl?
What are you without your Ouija board of a girl?

Cover Image: Water Lilies by Claude Monet