Jenn Powers


WRITER & VISUAL ARTIST

​This night on the beach porch

on the island

You move with darkness, you are

the rumble under my feet, you watch

 

I am pregnant with suffering

you say get rid of it

Your hands are the shadows

thrown across the lawn

 

the black ocean

curls into itself

 

The moon of your hate

the empty rooms of pricey treasures

You are the abrupt awakening

from a good dream

the arms the heads floating in the sea

the plastic bin washing ashore

 

I rest my head on your chest—

salty heart

the cavity of a sea shell

the cut down my core

from where you punched it away

 

I will not see you again

I will not attend your funeral

FAREWELL TO THE KILLER

By Jenn Powers

August 2017