The Return

by Rachel Harrison

I attempt to swat the fear away, not knowing where it’s coming from or why it’s here, but it circles back. It won’t leave. It insists.

her skin pools like melted wax.

the way the fabric moves over her bones is upsetting.

Her name dissolves on my tongue and leaves a bitter taste.

I try again, but this time it hurts like a sickness,

The only thing holding its skull together is skin.

my words form and flee without my consent.

The unpleasantnesses shrink and slip inside the folds of my brain

a frightening lack of awareness.

Her sobs yank her chest in, spit it back out. She’s convulsing.

Your love is too big.

pressing against me so hard, I’m sure her bones will puncture my skin.