Plenty of Bones in the Sea
What to do with the hard-earned resentment
of knowing what people are like?
Of laying trust stone by stone
so I can one day hold his hand and say
I’ll be with you until the very end
of your excitement.
Each time I stand by the front door
in zipped satin and dangling gold
the knob takes longer to turn.
This one could be different,
the car chant goes
beat by submerged beat
so monotone and relentless
that hope sounds like a punishment.
The dinner candle glows on his cheekbones
behind the dark, two-way mirror.
The frosty documentary
blinks over our faces.
The interrogation continues.
What he says about his ex, he will say about you.
No wall is without blueprints.
is connected to a root.
This is heavy
he says 8 months later
while my chest lowers
to the pillow.
My feet dangling on the solid air
of our invented faith.
Elisabeth Sharber is a high school English teacher in Lafayette, Indiana. In her free time, she likes to dance, collaborate with community organizers, and make people laugh (intentionally, but she’ll take anything). She has been published in The American Aesthetic, FLARE, Driftwood Press, Chestnut Review, and Bending Genres.