I remember how sunny the day was
pretending to be, how bright it was in the kitchen
how the water I was pouring from the blue mug
to the red mug, to the blue mug, to the red mug
was whispering it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright
how it dragged my sleeves
how the conversation I could hear was one-sided
how I understood every unloving word
how the front door closed with a rattle of glass
and how shivery I was as I watched
the watery shadow of my father disappearing
and my mother
a strange-woman, child-woman, old-woman left
on her knees and screaming
tell him to stay, he’ll stay if you
tell him, tell him, tell him,
how silent I was
how I went to curl on my bed
understanding waste of breath
how only I know this —
where the fault lies.