La Semaine

Monday had long straight hair
That she cut herself one night in the
Yellow lamplight, thin soft mousy brown
Scattered over the cold winter floorboards. Still
There.

Tuesday wore blue dresses
She ate crumbly Wonder Bread with
Peanut butter and jelly, sitting on the
Kitchen tiles. Her hair was
Pale.

Wednesday read books in his room
He wanted to be a sailor, sailing
Off the corners of all the maps
Past the epilogues of the books. Not lost -
Found.

Thursday dressed plainly,
Her favorite color was gray
And she tried to play the guitar,
And she tried to write a song -
Tried.

Friday lost herself,
Turned to needles and
Braided her sisters’ hair.
Drowned in the claw-foot bathtub, seeing
Colors.

Saturday had a broad smile
Strong, welcoming arms
Built for loving, comforting. He lit
Candles for his grandmother, cigarettes for
Friends.

Sunday never used her brain, tried to
Save herself, tried to save the world.
Coiled blood, now she sleeps in a hospital
Alternating between one-way mirrors and dark
Oceans.