Member-only story
Free Is What I Scoured the Earth to Be
Prose Poetry
Your halo eyes haunt me at the worst moments — when light burns like a flame to a fingertip, when love is a bitter tonic to gulp down rather than a wine to savor on the palate.
Moments past tell me I’m remembering the worst in too calm a spotlight. Words were vicious gifts we exchanged, voices rising like a tempestuous tide, until all we could volley back and forth were glares across the room.
I thought the moment you left would shatter me — seeing your car drive away into the unknown of the morning fog — but instead I hung limp at the doorway, sweater falling off my shoulder, as I felt each tie begin to unknot.
Free.
Did I dare grasp the enormity of that word?
I might have lifted to the sky because the heavy weight in my chest eased, a balloon shaped like my heart careening to the clouds.
Even the idea of being alone — what a fear that have been once upon a time — left me more giddy than nervous. The house was mine to peruse like it was a new book on the shelf, all the ready to embrace me in the comfort of space enough for clear thought.
Free.
It was my mind’s new refrain, a word shaped like the promise of tomorrow — whatever it meant, whatever it…
