Calm

In the mornings we expelled our bad spirits.  They come in sleep, spread thinly in our mouths.  There is a towel hanging on our bedpost, it is always there.  It sags pretty.  I gave him one end of the towel and held onto the other, the corners tugged between us.  Held our breathe-twelve inches back.  We whispered the bad spirits into the towel, caught them in the folds.  The stubborn ones hang onto the uvula and we roll breathe from our throats to coerce them out.  We are not forceful.  The malicious ones hide under our tongues.  The corners are brought together.  The movement must be quick.  And with our collective four hands, pinched and touching only at enamel, we empty the towel out the window.  The bad spirits slide against glass, no longer trying.

They let us be.  

Saehee Cho

2008, October 26