The black marble

​

A darkness in my periphery,

abstract and deep

carpets my feet with soft doubts.

 

Stalks and mimics

my movements

makes me walk backwards and repeat.

 

A distant and dark fog

that followed and obscured

until I turned to see.

 

What is a worse sight?

Gallows that are empty,

or one that is full?

 

As I looked –

you shrank, in size

but not in mass.

 

A refined hard black-

so dense no light can ever bounce back.

​

You became a tiny marble that I swallowed.

 

You anchor my heart

and pinball around my head.

Heavier than lead,

as reliable as a good friend.

 

A tight bind.

You and I.

Keep me confined, and close.

 

My black marble.

One day I’ll hold you in my open palm.

​

Rachel Maloney (2022).