Rebecca Thrush
every night I make a rainbow on my plate
and fill his in an abundance of colors
it reminds me of you, and how you
didn’t like vegetables
even when my eyes were shrouded
by the glimmer from your teeth
I always wondered how a woman
tasked to raise a man of tomorrow
continually claiming her place
in the world of spirits and ether-reality
could possibly tell me she doesn’t
eat the full spectrum of mother earth’s gifts
and standing now at my counter
cutting reds and greens and purples
I realize it should have been my omen
of the dark duality in your nature
the shiny appeal of herbal remedies
was simply another fashion for you
fickle and vain, but veiled as fortune
your teeth may shine but they are pointed poisons
***
Rebecca Thrush appears in Open Minds Quarterly’s Summer 2020 issue: Queer Stories and online in Indolent Books’ COVID-19 Edition of What Rough Beast. She works in property management in New England but has had an undying love for reading, writing, and creating since childhood, hoping to find connections and explanations in this distinctly disconnected era of smartphones. When not working, she can be found testing out vegan recipes or adventuring with her loving partner and their cat Penelope.