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The Way the River Flows
Concealer pools in my hand
I touch the pad of my fingers to my eye,
the pale cream
purple and blue covered.
Forgotten.
The mark disappearing instantly.
I finish with foundation,
my amnesia for today.
I follow the same stream of life,
like an old fish,
I know how to swim.
I’m following, never leading.
Eyes… my eyes
following his hands.
How often I dreamt of Alzheimer’s
every day I’d have no choice but to forget
every day starts better
but the nights are getting worse.
He’s a swordfish or a shark
and I’m just a shrimp.
Strong. Powerful. Angry.
small, weak, scared.
He stabs as his first attack,
my cheek stinging from his hand.
He bites my arm,
my bicep already reddening from his tight grip.
He swims up the stairs,
yanking me behind him.
Bubble, as explosive as expletives
pour from his mouth.
And with his final attack,
I sink to the sea floor.
Now.
They call him a killer whale,
and I’m an angelfish.
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