your black silk, Chinese dragons, gold, red-tongues licking across the dressing gown. the one I found. husband. hanging on the curtain rod of the room I made for her. soft. welcome for someone. so utterly motherless. so utterly without a home.
and i forgive.
your heads leaned in towards one another. over a Santa jigsaw puzzle I bought. to jolly us through Christmas. I, home early from the field.
her blood. on my yellow bedding. the satin shot with her. little bulls-eyes.
and God knows. what else.