The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 5 - Page 30

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four Poems by george abraham

metaphors for my body after survival

the blood stain at the mirror’s edge; the

bitten tongue & metallic aftertaste;

the house down the block & its strange

​haunting ​history; the creaking of floorboards at

night;

the light flickering during a ghost story;

every time you dream of your ancestors

or displacement;

a midnight panic attack;

the olive tree, post­-occupation;

a diaspora of limbs with nowhere to call home;

swimming upstream with an entire country on your

back; an erasure of a history textbook;

poems,

or shouts into the dark;

a cancelled therapy session;

the quarter at the bottom of the wishing well;

locking eyes when you & your best friend toast to being

alive; the insect, post­metamorphosis;

the leaking roof in a hurricane;

the crumbling ​home​ you call

shelter.