Erasure

This is no elegy; no one can write elegies

for such as you. There are no scuff marks here

for your erasure. No etches on a strong barked tree.

There was no grief. You are my silence.

Why do you choose to rise now like shifting sand

blown by a slight breeze?

You were my simple crime against humanity,

and, like a criminal, I claim no regrets.

I buried you too deep to call you a name;

you are my trail of invisible lines

like the stretch marks that did not have time to form.

No guilt resides in my house.

I did what we women have always done.

I froze the tears into a block of ice

buried so deep that the guilt is a cold in me,

a thing that will not melt.

What can I say to you who never breathed, you callous dust?

I can talk of sacrifices, broken lives.

I can talk of Abraham almost cutting Isaac’s throat.

But this was no holy decision.

I cannot tell you why I said no to you.

I am a worn white dress, all ash and grey.

Unspeakable requiem, do not rise now.

Do not ask me the worth.