The Goddess of Remorse – a poem by Neile Graham

The Goddess of Remorse

It’s full on dark night when
the bar of gold light sears 
across my heart. Coming 
from nowhere out of nothing 
right onto me. Coincidence. 
No meaning in it, a fluke 
of twisting beams that I 
can’t track its source. 
Hand across my chest 
now, the mark a layer 
removed: under the strip, 
my hand’s back and underneath 
that skin, bones, beating. 
The life in me, on a night 
I can’t sleep, anxiety stirring
bad memories with its 
nightmare stick and here
I am, marked by light, clothed 
and naked, part of me bright 
and honest, part the biggest
lie I know. What am I? What
is happening here? I am not new 
news. The voice between
time. Seconds tick, my chest 
thumps to move my blood, 
The life in me all shadows
and bright dreams, all the 
bustle of day punctuated 
by the lost and quiet night
of this. I want to lift this 
bar, turn my hand, hold 
its fire to warm my palm. 
Instead, I shift, let it spear 
back into my heart, let 
the light break me open, 
burn me alive. You will know 
my face by its shadows. Time
to get the shadows right, let
light fall shining wherever it may. 

Neile Graham is Canadian by birth and inclination but currently lives in Seattle, Washington. Her publications include: four full-length collections, most recently The Walk She Takes (2019) and a spoken word CD, She Says: Poems Selected & New. She has also published poems in various physical and online magazines, including Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, Mad Swirl, and Polar Starlight.