Ash and Gardens by Jessica Sorya
Ash and Gardens
Jessica Sorya
She asks me, “What did I want at nineteen
that I have now?”
I answer,
“Nothing. Everything I wanted is gone.”
Every man I pedestaled, fell.
toppled over, head heavy.
Bless ‘em.
Cowards.
I’ve always been surrounded by women
scurrying,
cleaning dirt from their nails,
scrubbing blood from tile,
handling shit
when shit needed handling.
They stitched silence into their spines,
only let loose
when the liquor was heavy.
You should have seen them,
the men, watching
as they carried entire families
without flinching.
They’d bend,
but would not break,
even when the weight…
The skinny
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