Trigger Warning
That night was the night that
my mother’s secrets spilled
from our windows and into the sticky
summer air to dance in tight
circles of iridescent light with the
fireflies upon the glassy lake
That night was the night that
the angry tires of my father’s car
spun the dirt of our gravel driveway into a giant
tornado that lifted our family home,
corner by corner, off its decade-long
foundation and carried it away
That night was the night that
all of my childhood tears became
the rushing rapids of a salty river and
carried my innocence to sea
That night was the night that
I blinked, and everything
I held dear
vanished, gone for
good with
my mother and the
ghostly tail of the
morning fog