today the words
are not cooperating
it is like they are reverting
to their feral state
in my mind
they bite at their leashes
gnaw off their limbs
until they have chewed themselves free
of my memories
and run off into the darkness to hide
and wait in ambush until
i go hunting for them again
it has been like this lately
i have been pulling out old
photographs as evidence that
these words belong to me and
that we belong together
how well i had caged some of them
for so long that they died
when they escaped back into
the wilderness
the way my father became
just another man before he turned
into a stranger is the same way
that words end up dying —
eaten by others bigger and hungrier
than memory
when i go hunting tonight
i’ll be covered in blood
hoping to be devoured myself.
Copyright © henry toromoreno, 2008. All rights reserved.