Guilt

I slowly remember the manzanita and madrone trees.
I recall a night under the stars all alone with a bonfire lit by one match.
I remember the taste of boiled algae cakes and spring water.
I remember swimming naked and hopping on river rocks.
I can remember the tune we sang to the Lord’s Prayer.
But, I don’t like the way these memories make me feel.
The boys remember abuse.

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