Dark Black Cloud

Betrayal.

It sits under my ribs

tucked between the

curve of the bones

and the curl of my liver.

The bright Snow Moon

shines its cold light

illuminating a bitter shadow.

It was Adam who betrayed Eve

after Lilith had the sense

to walk away.

Betrayal.

First felt at the hands

of a father who should

have known better.

We deserved better.

Small, sensitive

child wounded by that

first, fundamental

break in trust.

Dark, black cloud.

My mother noted

in her diary the first

painting I brought

home from kindergarten.

Not a flower, a cat or

the hot yellow sun.

A dark, black cloud.

I spent a lifetime

chasing that cloud.

Trying to bomb

it out of my sky

with a weather gun

filled with rum and records.

Repeating that same

first betrayal

again and again and again

with men who were my father.

Adam betraying Eve.

A bottle of gentlemen bitters

to flavour my gin,

so it could seep

into that space

between my ribs,

into my heart,

into my liver,

to swell the organs

to the size of

my dark, black, cloud.

Even my body betrayed me,

casting out my precious

child in a dark,

black, blood clot.

Until it broke me.

There are only so many

betrayals a woman

can take.

The thunderstorm lasted

a decade. It rained

a hurricane of tears.

Now I'm left looking

at the debris washed

up on the beach.

Not significant wreckage,

but small, broken

bones. I pick them up,

licking their salt water

wounds.

Those shallow skeletons

are not worth

a thousand years

of solitude.

Let the moon

shine its light

into their shadows.

I am done with them,

and climb into the sky

to sit with Lilith in her brightness.

She'll have me with open arms,

press me to her bosom

and we'll dance through

the vastness of that

dark, black, cloud.