there was no before

Two years old:
there was no before
and no one else can know this

underneath the table I spot
a wad of gum my brother stuck there
two years old and there was no before

there was no before
the tiles always speckled, cool and rough under my cheek
the soft thud of mother, discussing,
I was not supposed to hear
Neither began nor ended

not even on this day,
when I no longer and shoved, all lovingly
into the garage,
where the noises sounded more like muffled late night tv
and less like home

there was no before –
the touch always bruised
mother’s eyes always pleaded like that
try to understand, no one else can
there was no before.

there is no after, not yet anyway.
this is all anti history
seeding a lifetime of re-creation,
of a non-story
this is not front page news

moats and moors and ordinary walls
all proportional
to the stories behind the doors

doors shut so tightly, that to open them requires
the force behind the world to rupture
and open at its seams,
the prehistoric code forgotten, or destroyed

buildings don’t kill people, I’m told
the loss of the code does

there was no before

the fear, it came with us.