A heavy secret lies

A heavy secret lies in waiting to be sentenced, 

7 years, 3 months and 19 days blacked away out of sight— 

Inside the stone walls her writing watches^[1]Hélène Cixous, (1998), Coming to Writing and Other Essays, Harvard University Press, p. 3., eyes closed and attendant. 

 

She wraps a crocheted pink shawl^[2]Emily Dickinson, (1970), “Shame is the shawl of Pink”,  #1412, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickonson, Faber and Faber, p. 603. around her and cowers—silenced. 

Darting and dashing across the horizon searching for words to take flight, 

A heavy secret lies in waiting to be sentenced. 

 

Her skin crawls with syllabic shame diligently referenced.  

Silver shards from her nails slowly scrape the blackboard of her brain with cruel delight— 

Inside the walls writing watches, her eyes closed and attendant. 

 

She struggles in vain against everyday evil on public display and resplendent, 

Her once red but now blue heartlines shudder with repugnance at its blight. 

A heavy secret lies in waiting to be sentenced. 

 

Her grandmother’s clock expresses not remedy, but resentment. 

Tick-tock open tick-tock shut her right-hand tenses and the knuckles turn a paler shade of white— 

Inside the walls writing watches, her eyes closed and attendant. 

 

Neither roses, nor a ruby; it is grief laced with shame unlicensed.  

She wears it every day and hangs it on a peg at night.

A heavy secret lies in waiting to be sentenced— 

Inside the walls writing watches, her eyes closed and attendant. 

 

“What I feel: this obscurity. It is the troubled air of our secrets, those that govern us and that we’re not really aware of”.^[3]Hélène Cixous, (1998), Stigmata: Escaping Texts, Routledge, p. 6.