by Emily Hockaday
The liquid pain inside my body
laps at my edges, eroding my ease. I feel
something over my shoulder; a flicker
of fear reminds me that anything can happen,
even after recovery. Long-ago-sewn snakes
move through my vascular system, trading
toxin for toxin, so I pull ribbons of venom from my hair.
Together my daughter and I string ornaments
on these fibers and wear them as talismans
of love. Her fingers are nimble and sure and she works
with the focus only a four-year-old can.
From the window, curled leaves hang
on the sycamore tree, the last words
my father spoke. They fall to the ground
without ceremony. I cling to his voice, trying
to remember its timbre.
At some point in these memories
it became my own voiceover.
Emily Hockaday is the author of In a Body (Harbor Editions, October 2023) and Naming the Ghost (Cornerstone Press, 2022). She penned six chapbooks and she lives in Queens where she writes about ecology, chronic illness, parenting, and general angst. www.emilyhockaday.com.
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