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©2018 Barren Magazine. An Alt.Lit Introspective.

hecate #1


by Katherine DeCoste

undeath is in creation / and the degloving of hands / digging up of pale yellow talisman / kiss of
moonlight through the willow branches / fade / d / undeath is in the knitting together of bone
after bone with sage / fibres with grapevines and laying them back in the soil / shape of a star / I
think the beginning of everything is a mother / I think the letting go is a moment of resurrection /
I worry I won’t see you again in elysium / undeath is in an empty rusted taxicab / and the fire
smell of singed dog hair / I’m fingering the translucent stone / I’m flipping it through the air
praying it will land rightside up / the hound slinks by too thin / undeath is in the skin sloughing
off / the coin in your gaping mouth / the memory of you in the uppermost branches of the willow
I mutter your name your name your name again / undeath is in the never burying of you and in
the always wearing black / I think of resurrection itself implicit in the soil / here you are in the
taste of garlic and tart wine / the hound is waiting for you at the end of the driveway / the hound
wants to play fetch with the hunk of yellow rock / undeath is the curl of dry bones and
decomposition of the stitches / keeping your photo on the bedside table / soft swish of the leaves

Header photograph © Lesley-Anne Evans.

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