The Grieving Room - Anis Mojgani
When grief comes
talk to the foxes
curl on the floor
hit eyelids with fists.
Grief is a long dark table
that calls for you to come to it alone.
Thief your heart into pieces.
Make music upon its wood over and over again
banging your hands upon it
until the knuckles bleed and heal and bleed again and again.
The bleeding always comes last.
Grief is a long dark table
that calls for you to come to it alone.
At one end is a skinny man.
There are mountains of food before him
and he keeps and keeps eating.
Before you know it
the food is gone and he still hungers.
Thief your heart into pieces.
Place them on his plate.
He will take the pieces gleefully
blood on his cheeks
chewing loudly.
Stare at him.
Listen to him swallow hard.
When he is done
he will eat the plate.
Start taking apart the table and feed it to him piece by broken piece.
When the table is gone
start peeling back the walls
piling the plaster and wood before him.
Do not separate the nails
place them there as well.
Break the window frames over your knees
sweep the broken glass into his gaping mouth
tear down the beams
and up the floor.
When the room is gone
go to the next room
and then the next one.
Pull the whole house down
to set before the appetite of the skinny man.
Breathe hard
and as if the pile were merely crumbs
watch as he eats it all.
When there is nothing else
nothing but the empty aching world
watching the two of you
and he still stares at you like the rocks below a darkened lighthouse
his eyes
like blue china plates creaking under the strain
like blue faces being held under the cold water
like headlights
ready to swallow everything in its gaze
making the darkness surrounding him even blacker
your fingers stroking your arms
and wonder what else there is to give.
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