Where I Dwell, 2006

This is where I dwell.
This is where I dwell for you.
Do you see me here? I am in
the basement, just take a look. I’m
down there with the flood’s waters.
I’m crouching down on two legs, wet sneakers.
Sitting. Naked. Sneakers. There is piles of sand
all around me. The windows are closed. The
waters have receeded. I’m waiting in a
basement for you. My hair dripping with
sweat from a day of hauling, salt on my
skin. I’m waiting for you. You have no
idea that I’m down here. I can hear you
walking up above, in the house. You built this
foundation three hundred years ago. I was there
as we dug the clay from the ditch, from
the hill. I wore a skirt then too. I have
a short one on today. It’s wet too. Wet with
flood water. Wet with flood water. Flood water.
It came out of my eyes. I drink iced water in exchange.
It’s sunny outside, you play and cook, singing along
to the pops. I wonder how long it will be until
you come down and see me here, tucked away
in the corner, behind the cases. I’m waiting here
for you. Will you know it as you sleep that
I’m here. I’m there for years. I’m there for ions.
I’m there forever. I’m in the basement, and, I’m digging.
Digging out. I’m digging out the foundation. The
foundation that you thought was solid. I’m digging it
out. A hole. It crumbles into sand. I use a teaspoon.
There is a way to go but I’ll make it. A mole in your
basement. Will you still love me when I’ve been buried
so long. My skin so white. I will be born outside. The
sun will scorch my eyes, burn my skin. My hair is white.
My eyes are no longer the blue of the sky, they are pure
yellow of the brightest flowers. They are gold. I am clad in
gold. Chains, a crown, bracelets ring my arms, anklets made
from the yellowest of gold. Straight from Thailand. Straight
from the east. I am dressed in red silk, it folds over my curves.
I am dressed and painted as a bride. The jewels flank my face.
I am beauty and you are a crime. A crime. A thief, you steal my
heart and tramble it with a horse’s hooves. I let you ride away, swiftly.
I am dressed as a bride after digging out from the basement of
my world. It is covered in salt, from the sea. This sand is from
when they dug the subways in my city. It makes, it filled the marsh so
that we could have more beaches here. Did you know that I grew in a
house like this but grander. It was wooden with secrets in its spaces.
It had secrets of maidens with broken hearts and sore pussies. Sore pussies.
They would come and fuck the girls and leave. I could feel the broken hearts of
these women as I grew. I knew what a forelorn lover feels even before I was
of age. I knew what beauty was even before you knew the shade of my pale
blue eyes. My pale blue eyes and my brown hair. I write here on a train for you.
Always for you. I write for the future, I write for the loved. I write for the
women who lived in my house and waited for their men to return from their
lives of priveledge. They waited for their love. I dug myself out from a flood and the
wind. It took all of our charge from us and I stayed and danced all night instead
of returning to it all. My father ate cheese and crackers and read by candle light. A
birthday present given easily. With no premodition. With just a smile and a strong
woman’s love. She begins to ask me about my truest, closest love. I start to tell
her how it all works. I have to leave to get this train. I want to run to your house and lay
on your couch while you cook fish for me.

home

© 2010 by Felice Tebbe. All rights reserved.