But Then Poem by GORDON GILHULY

please, listen to my eyes.
you can see it there, honest, you can please listen to the
words that I cannot say that I dare not say my eyes have terrible stories to tell my eyes see him every night, when my life becomes darker than pain, when he comes into my room I close my eyes but I can still see him he is forever
seared onto the inner lids of my eyes like a young calf, I am branded every night, the red-hot branding iron, my flesh burning where he touches me, where
it touches me and I scream and I scream and I scream in absolute silence in silence as deep, as profound, as wise as death.

please listen to my breath.
perhaps you can hear my story there can you hear how I hold my
breath, how I offer it up only unwillingly into the silence listen I try to hold my
breath in my control to feign what: death? sleep? Innocence? a young wounded rabbit hiding from the hunting serpent don't breath, don't look in his eyes he will not
see me he will go away and he never does night after night after night, he
finds me night after night the fiery serpent takes my breath away
jams it down my throat
every night.


please listen to my body.
it will tell you the story of the little boy who goes away the little boy who exits the building and leaves his body behind every night, the same story the little boy goes
to bed his mother does not come to tuck him in because she knows the story, too
don't close the door - not allowed
don't cover up with the blankets - not allowed
don't breathe
don't cry out
don't stay here
don't feel the pain, the shame, the guilt
don't tell anyone.

but then, no one ever listens anyway.