Other and Other
South Carolina, 1988
To each other buzzing softly: Other
and Other.
Clearing in the trees,
light coming down like teeth,
pine needles to hide in
that itch the skin.
A dead bat in the breezeway
and the cat’s full of ecstasy.
I am home from the hospital
where nurses asked my name
over and over attaching nodes
to my skin like clinging cicada shells.
Do I have anything but stories to tell?
I ate my own silly black heart twice
in a summer—
First time discovered we lived
on a burial ground
and that explained the beads jangling,
second time we were children destined
to sleep on the brick floor
outside our parents’ bedroom,
too afraid to sleep alone—
us and our mounds of dirt
us and our bones laid out.
Confessions on the Grass Behind the Library
Alexis Orgera: Artist Statement