A Study of Forgiveness as a Piñata
–Sierra DeMulder
It is definitely an animal, but nobody can tell
which kind. Half donkey, half rodeo clown.

Part cow, part hummingbird. People

only care what’s inside, and how eventually
it will be violent(ly) drawn out — the wild

staggers of the blindfolded, how the body

acts as a volume knob: the closer the swing,
the louder the shrieks. That satisfying thud,

aluminum against papier-mâché, dull

and electric. In these years after you, I too
have thrashed in the dark, have swung madly

at sounds, have prayed for impact, or at least

purpose. I confess I have noosed your memory,
waved my bat like a shameful finger, waited

beneath it, ready to collect my lump of closure.

Thump. I forgive you. Thump. I forgive you.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Nothing ever falls out.