Aubade: Again
Darling, all night
I have been flickering, off, on, off, on.
—Sylvia Plath
Good morning friend faithful one
still here with me
Last night you came to visit
once more
and through the wakened and wakening hours
wouldn’t stop whispering
and here you are
again
or you never left so
insistent on loyalty proximity
something of a stalker really
all pressure and persuasiveness
circling me like oxygen
pain as prickly pear bee sting
jagged claw
Go now
Shall I drive you out
with persuasion or pitchfork
or the chemical cross
my comrade my alien my imp
or embrace you decode your
secret message
from an unwanted future
Go
Make friends with your pain the specialist says
We are stepping up the meds graduating
to the opioids moving up the scale
and even now you
shout my name in the night
They keep asking me to give you
a number
these inconstant doctors and nurses
Which smiley/frowny face are you today
when you and I are always
making our acquaintance and yet
it feels as though you’ve been here
forever waiting
for me to never sleep never wake
Come
as thorn as quiver as charred desire
You must be the color of
deep autumn shocking red flared
burnt at the edges
No that’s a cooling season
and you prefer heat
I lay down beside you
enfold myself within fluttering sheets
as you climb inside me
light small fires
or are you
trying to climb out
you August
melting the asphalt
on the street where I grew up
sunlight glinting off
MacArthur Bridge my feet burning
on the iron railing
I dive
Candace Pearson won the Liam Rector First Book Prize for Poetry for Hour of Unfolding. Recent publications include Cider Press Review, Spillway, Diode, and Wide Awake: Poets of Los Angeles and Beyond.
