I have buried the first home I ever had.
She still had long hair, like she wanted,
but the phone will never ring again.
So, excuse me if I don’t care about
you turning your head unless your
hand is out. Pardon my disinterest
when I call out and meet silence
as regularly as dusk. Don’t expect
me to be a brand new bucket filled
with white teeth, tumbling bouquet
of skater skirts and cartwheels, when
a SOLD OUT sign on the shelf collects
dust where the fucks used to be. Ask
for the sparkle in my eyes, wait, check
the bottom of your purse, under his
musky boxers, you already stole that.
A blacksmith in my head hammers
what I won’t give you, your mouth
can go where it always led you
away from me, start looking there.
Tara Betts is the author of Break the Habit and Arc & Hue. She’s a co-editor of The Beiging of America: Personal Narratives about Being Mixed Race in the 21st Century and editor of the critical edition of Philippa Duke Schuyler’s memoir Adventures in Black and White. Her work has appeared in Poetry, Essence, Nylon, Lit Hub, and numerous anthologies. Currently, she teaches MFA students at Chicago State University, young poets at ChiArts High School for Performing Arts, and participants in the Prison + Neighborhood Arts Program at Stateville Prison.
