Open House Rebecca Hazelton

When we undressed her, t he body beneath hinged like a door, but what were doors in this new republic and why wear the uniform r inglets if one didn’t want them mussed?

She asked for her children, swaying f rom the apple trees, but we aren’t worried about memories anymore.

The bared body was like a table w ith every utensil in place, and we wondered for a moment what if we’re the same but some of us had different doors to walk through? Even then, some of us just wandered from room to room, got lost from the kitchen to the bathroom. It was a large house, but that’s no excuse.

T hat moment passed. We walked through. We bent her over. We had our say.

Gretchen Van Lente