thank you for the agony

Poetry, Cristine Buizon


In moonlight, barely peeking

past the interstice of looming pine, I’m

barely whole like her

the sunken feeling is uprooted

and cradled by the hurt women I

found when I lost you

forests are fuller when the branches

touch

new thought thumbed into

soil, we are

the hurt women patting

the earth to mould

the home once more from the bones

that unlearn the weight of his.


My lips pulse, reciting the affirmations

like incantations- the undoing

of your spells, the screwcap of their burdens

looser, a deluge of

tears crystallising before touching the ground;

we pick them up, the fragments of broken hearts,

laughter leading the languid process along,


the beating can be heard again

it’s the pummeling of pieces I liken

to the recollection of hummingbird headaches

I felt in the pit of my stomach when he cautioned me

about the wild-haired women:

still pulse, still life, a reminder

delicate arms so swift to rebuild

hoist me up to see the view.


the moon is full up here,

from above the looming pine.

 

Cristine Buizon is a Filipino-Canadian writer based in Toronto. She is a recent graduate from the University of Toronto’s English Literature program. In her work, she likes to explore themes of anxiety and how it resides in our relationships, but lately, she's been enthralled by spaces, solitude, and the ways that we exist in them. She's recently been published in Depth Cues, Cool Customer, and The UC Review.