that I've come to inhabit.
My last memory, I am sitting alone
in my parlor of burgundy damask wallpaper,
sipping fragrant, peppermint tea.
The grandfather clock chimes
approximately twelve times
the left side of my body is frozen
as my eyes become cloaked
in a darkness I cannot comprehend.
Where is my black dress with lace trim?
Why do I reside on a lady's dainty wrist?
Am I not more than woven strands of hair
on black enamel or vulcanite?
Why am I stroked like a lost cat?
I want to cry out but I am mute.
I want to mourn the months I've lost.
The lady is familiar now.
She is my daughter, I remember that much.
Now, she talks to me in the night
behind closed doors, hushed.
She has become my songbird,
mouthing all the songs, all the words
I intended to say but never could.
I wrap myself tighter around her wrist,
wishing I could feel her warmth.
She replies with a reassuring smile,
"I love you too, mother."
Sandy Hiss writes dark, lyrical poetry & fiction. Her fondest memories of childhood are from her years in Germany, playing in the vast woods behind her home which contributed to her lifelong love of dark fairy tales, magical realism, and the paranormal. Sandy's works include a gothic fairytale novel, The Rosegiver, and a paranormal novelette, The Haunting of Meredith.
This touches my heart and soul!
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