m u s e

silent and stoic

the ojisan curse

it was a curse, he said, a curse
a curse cast upon his bones by two sly witches,
two wicked sisters, he said, who spelled the curse—

the curse cast upon his bones to bend his spine down to his toes,
my frozen toes, he said, that bore the wretched curse—

the curse cast upon his bones because he took his lover for his own,
the younger daughter that I stole, he said, the younger witch to seal the vengeful curse—

the curse cast upon his bones to slowly slow his weary soul with every birth of every sturdy musuko,
my seeds of strength, he said, that left my limbs to the fate of the crippling curse—

the curse cast upon his bones to heed his wife’s admonishing tone,
the sweetest whip, he said, to nurture my sons that grow and grow despite the curse upon my bones—

the curse cast upon his bones,
it was a curse, he says

is that his shower
leaking, or the rain dripping,
or his bones weeping?

chirping birds outside
the window are quiet now;
let’s put out some milk

#napowrimo #repetition


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