LAURIE KOENSGEN
The Body Recalls
Cherries, drenched
in a descent of cool rain
then kilned by a hot white sun
split––
their crimson skins thrust open
along ripe selvages
like lips
on the cusp of utterance.
This memory
haunts my tongue.
Rain, a susurrus––
the sibilance of fingers
stroking marble beads,
smooth now as the cloak
of glycerine
the moon throws on the lake,
silken as slippery elm
over a wound.
This memory silvers
on my skin.
Sun, a catharsis––
lifts
each private darkness,
leaves its violet likeness
behind closed eyes;
it looms, illumined,
insinuates
itself into my sinews.
This memory warms me,
warns me.
Published in Soliloquies Anthology (Concordia), February 2024
Laurie Koensgen lives and writes in Ottawa, Canada. Recent publishers include Literary Review of Canada, The Ex-Puritan, The Madrigal, Blue Moon Review, The New Quarterly, and Twin Bird Review. Laurie is a founding member of the Ruby Tuesday Writing Group. Her fourth chapbook, this clingstone love, is with Pinhole Poetry.