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I Know My Own Gun by Marina

3/13/2020

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Picture
Am I the asshole? Am I just a furball of complaints,
cataracts on my eyeballs
and ghosts in the doorway?
I melt on the hot embers of forgiveness, they’re poking me and hurting me to change
It’s a train and this line I’ve never rode before 
We named our daughter Grace in another language
It’s the bitter pill I choke on
Self righteous I’m right and when I’m right I can forget the gentle gray pebbles of his nature
We’re in a dream its called Alaska its July 1998
The kayaks make a muted swish through the silver gray water
I have silver rings on all my fingers and an obsession with a boy named Kevin and he says I’m too scared to dance and he’s right
But no matter he’s back on the boat and I’m here
The dream seeping into my fleece
My grandparents are on the boat too
This is their before death trip but they don’t say it that way
I’m in front 
Some adult thought it would be more meaningful maybe 
To feel like I’m alone or something and I’m too cool to admit they’re right
There’s a finger in front of my face and a disembodied voice its pointing to a nest of sticks and earth on an island of mud
And then I see it
Them
All of them
Their folded wings as big as winter sweaters
The secrets of white that I catch in flecks when they rearrange their feathered bodies maybe saying go away, why are you here, I don’t know
I almost can’t breath 
I zoom back
The water meets the sky but there’s no handover just silver gray seeping into silver gray
And I think, I’m inside a mirror
We're in a dream it's called Alaska it's July 1998 and it’s cold.
Is Mom here? Laurie?
Who’s behind me in this near-silent plastic boat?
It could be morning noon or well not evening that would feel darker
It must be a strong daylight hour but the sun is nowhere and everywhere all at once and I flash back to the woods behind our house where I once felt what could’ve been god
And then I’m back and they’re just bald eagles you know?
Just birds of prey
And broken glass and snapping turtles
I’m sort of aware of other islands around me, rising from the silver gray and they too, are occupied by giants 
warming their next generation.
How did we find this place? 
Who is in charge here?
I notice the sun warming the outside of my jacket and I feel the faint tinge of its comfort
And I exhale
And cranes unfold in my heart
This train it’s relentless its a glimpse and then gone
I will keep this, I microfiber to my chest
This could soften me, so I keep it, I could need it, I know my own gun
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