the truth is

I don’t remember―

but I wrote as if I did.

I told you about my bed and my clothes and the silence,
and all about the color blue, and how I don’t have it in my bedroom
or my bathroom or in any of my kitchen towels.

I said it wasn’t my favorite color and that when I describe water it is always a
of green,

because seaweed is green and lily pads are green and some summer storms
themselves in greens, and all of this is reflected
in the water.

Even my bath soap is green so that, when I bathe, I swim in a green-hued milky

Speaking of reflections: sometimes I look into a mirror―a long mirror―and
that my blue jeans cannot be named a variant of green,
so I have convinced myself that there must always be an exception
to every rule and my jeans will be that exception; the only blue
in my universe. . . .

. . . if it weren’t for my eyes which must have been open and innocent―attractive―starring up into his eyes as he did this thing to me. I don’t know, maybe.

His eyes were not blue; this is the only thing I remember.

Kimberly Ann Priest

KIMBERLY ANN PRIEST is the author of Slaughter the One Bird (Sundress 2021) and the chapbooks Still Life (PANK, 2020), Parrot Flower (Glass 2020), and White Goat Black Sheep (FLP 2018). Her poetry has appeared in several literary journals including The Laurel Review, RiverSedge, and The Berkeley Poetry Review and she is a winner of the 2019 Heartland Poetry Prize in the New Poetry from the Midwest anthology by New American Press. A former book reviewer for NewPages and intern with Sundress Publications, she is currently Assistant Professor of First-Year Writing at Michigan State University, and an associate poetry editor for the Nimrod International Journal of Prose and Poetry and Embody reader for The Maine Review.

Contributions by Kimberly Ann Priest