Seasonal

Was it sunshine—what he said,
the yellow walls; what I wanted?
Lavender, lilacs, daffodils.

In a strange way, hydrangeas,
dogwood, I do he said hosta,
azalea kind of love you.

I paired heavy with joy. Hornets
hidden, narcissus. He
moved Sweet to girl. In a season

for dresses his hands flowed beneath;
the white dress smattered with lace,
the blue one buttoned to my thighs,

and that one red nerium oleander, or was it
firethorn? Was I Riding Hood, his woods
euphorbia, his mouth urging mine

to the camera’s eye. Where wouldn’t I
exhibit myself for him? In the lit bedroom,
naked, my palms framed in his window.

And then, one morning woken by
a hornet’s sting on my ringless
finger new words new wound:

You had one datura role dogbane
to play honey locusts. Did I want it?
What he said… the walls

a forgery of light.

Thresholds

Everything feels dull like half-chewed leather

but I get what I ask for. My palms hit
the hardwood. The ground gives
a low five, and my mouth

is the cave out of Hell, selves
talking back to self. The body
is a four-doored shadow. Here

doors open like wings, here sear
the sky, clouds like papercuts.
There’s no point; you

didn’t deserve any of what
you went through—still, the machine
won’t let us go; it runs us through

and through and to—Roman ruins,
busted carousel, the sun a firefly
splashing light in our eyes,

my sisters twirling in daisy
sandals, the wind catching
my skirt with a kiss—as if

to tempt me by the romance of it—
the bookend violence of
a European summer, our mother

pleading Please and Don’t.
What is love if not
the defenestration of a family

heirloom thudding in the grass?
My sisters and I standing hand-
in-hand-and-hand at the seed

of our inheritance. Isn’t it true
you have to love a garden
in order for it to grow?

What have I watered, given light?

Tess Congo is an award-winning poet. Her writing has appeared in Publisher's Weekly, The Tusculum Review, the anthology Ripe, and elsewhere. She has studied writing at the University of New Hampshire, the University of New Orleans, the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, Harvard University, and Hunter College (where she earned her MFA in poetry). Discover more of her work at www.TessCongo.com