Every Night

Photo by Vanessa Leuterio

Forgive me Father
For I have sinned.
It has been 38 years
Since my last confession.

Father,
I murder my mother every night.

I can think
Of no greater joy,
No greater respite,
No greater justice
For the slayer
Of all my kin.

I remember
That cold April night
When she kissed him goodnight
With poisoned lips.

She cut off
Each of his fingers
And crisped them
Golden.

With her belly
Still full
I strangled her
With her precious pearls

I looked at her
Dead center
As I gouged
Her beady eyes out.

She shrieked
As I skinned her alive.
She wailed
As I boiled her in oil and tar.

I remember
That fateful October twilight
When she tucked my brother to sleep,
She took her dagger
And slit
My brother open.

I saw
The life
Drain
From his eyes.

Silent. Still. True.

I watched
As my mother was
Bathed
In a pool
Of my brother’s blood.

I took the dagger
Lying on the floor
And thrust it
So far up her chest.

I dragged her
Out to our farm
And left
A feast for the crows.

Father,
I detest all my sins
And resolve
To amend my life.