Читать книгу Dear Prudence - David Trinidad - Страница 34

BURNT OFFERINGS

(COURT GREEN, 1962)

The place was like a person,

its walls pink-washed

flesh that responded

to the slightest touch.

Though she thought

differently—

stained glass lit up

in the church next door

so pretty through

silhouettes of trees—

the house was only happy

when black words

oozed their muck

out of the telephone

and she recoiled from

the dark, airless room

off the kitchen

as if it were a tomb

or closet of ghosts

hooked like hung coats.

Her own personal Hill House,

her private horrors made real.

At night he read

Heart of Darkness to her

while she worked with her hands

(they were never still)

in front of the fireplace,

red carpet and drapes

flickering a furious pulse.

Together they’d furnished

the house with her rage.

It need wait but a short while

longer to speak what for too

long had been mute, through her.