An extract from Meryl Pugh’s pamphlet, Wife of Osiris, published by Verve Poetry Press in May 2021.
She dreamt, she remembers, the night she signed the contract.
Something about a bathtub, something about a surgical saw.
She stares at the tunnel wall. The platform is deserted.
Something about her leg. If she takes a step, will it bear her
weight? Rough barbs around her thigh, still fresh.
§
Summer in a city park. Sweet chestnut in full flower at noon
smells savoury, like good, clean cock. Lime blossom is sweet
like freesias, like jasmine, but with a citrus edge. She sipped
her tisane and returned his gaze, those centuries ago. Tilleul,
she said.
Now look.
