Monsters and Ghosts
We play a round of Patty Cake,
her fingers dwarfed by mine.
Cat's Cradle erupts in claps of joy,
surprise in her smile.
Together we search for monsters
in closets and under the bed—
'til night waltzes circles around us,
dances me back to my internship:
to a child of a woman,
face eclipsed by draped knees,
ebony skin, pink through the speculum,
scarlet in the surgical basin.
My mentor whispers: Hold the curette
like an artist's brush, the razor bristles
slicing down to muscle. Scrape.
Feel the grating resistance. Scrape.
Then a tiny hand emerges, nails painted
with blood, fingers clutching
the teeth of the cold curette and I learn
how some stains never wash clean.
Tender palms cradle my stubble,
tremble like the voice in my ear:
Daddy! Daddy! I can't sleep.
Our fears are left unsaid—
muted by moans in the closet,
monsters shuffling under the bed.
We play a round of Patty Cake,
her fingers dwarfed by mine.
Cat's Cradle erupts in claps of joy,
surprise in her smile.
Together we search for monsters
in closets and under the bed—
'til night waltzes circles around us,
dances me back to my internship:
to a child of a woman,
face eclipsed by draped knees,
ebony skin, pink through the speculum,
scarlet in the surgical basin.
My mentor whispers: Hold the curette
like an artist's brush, the razor bristles
slicing down to muscle. Scrape.
Feel the grating resistance. Scrape.
Then a tiny hand emerges, nails painted
with blood, fingers clutching
the teeth of the cold curette and I learn
how some stains never wash clean.
Tender palms cradle my stubble,
tremble like the voice in my ear:
Daddy! Daddy! I can't sleep.
Our fears are left unsaid—
muted by moans in the closet,
monsters shuffling under the bed.