Le rapas The way she cleans, puts away the day into lopsided drawers that do not shut well even on easy days their contents lost in shuffle and exploit planes over head, mournful drone, a whine of grief as they attain height her hands chapped from slapping herself back to life rivets run like zippers down her nails, a light somewhere is extinguished another turned on, sudden furnace, shadows vanquished, she has not drunk all day, for the trembling in her hands betrays the wait. Dusk smears sky, oranges hang like tired bosoms pressed in a woman’s dress amidst plump leaves, blue-black birds caw their hunger into cavernous pitch, cats with arched tails, disappear potently, eternally her ankles swell with want, her thyroid a box of treasure, alight with waiting in chocolate dusk she dozes in her reverie, business put away, the calm of darkening, a hot bath scalding dry air with its promise, oils filling her nostrils, pungent and wistful, infusion of sorrow she remembers when they lay together without fault or breakage the outline of their union, a mandala, with complicated lines leading back to circles drawn in henna, indigo, cheap car paint, permanent in bare footed sprint poured into a tattoo gun in wild Canadian hinterlands. stabbed in staccato for her eternal, sea sick pleasure. She lay then, thinking of burning up like fireworks set alight to bloom and bloom till dry of pollen she wanted to melt the snow as she walked back alone and hurting, wounded by her own loathing a cigarette in her mouth, pressed against clenched, chipped teeth, and you? You were far off like winking lights in sea storm you were so far then… gone, without being gone As is so much of life. Waiting. Closing curtains. Wrapping away disappointed hours to bed, to claim, to screaming beneath wedged pillows till the thankless clock in the downstairs anteroom chimes not and without putting our heads in the oven even once we are done Done.
Candice Louisa Daquin is of Sephardi French/Egyptian descent. Born in Europe, Daquin worked in publishing before immigrating to America to become a Psychotherapist, where she has continued writing and editing whilst practicing as a therapist. Daquin is Senior Editor at Indie Blu(e) Publishing, a feminist micro-press. She freelances as Writer-in-Residence for Borderless Journal and Poetry & Art Editor for The Pine Cone Review. Her next personal book of poetry is Tainted by the Same Counterfeit (Finishing Line Press, coming out 2022). Find more of her work at http://www.thefeatheredsleep.com