Mariah Rigg: Deconstructed
Photo: Joanna C. Valente
Deconstructed
Pink pua fall to the ground, deconstructed,
splayed open on the mondo grass.
A little bird with a chest like a cowry hops
across the moss: freckled, legs long
under the ball of its body. Lizzie would like this,
you say, as mossy tendrils wrap around the dark,
wet bark of guava trees just rained upon.
I remember how you felt beneath me last night.
Above the koi pond, we stand, watching
the ironwood’s reflection swim. I slip
on the pitted skin of rock and the bruise blooms
into the shape and shade of a red hibiscus,
frilled at the edges. Pale, naked
roots braid the path down to the waterfall.
Later, a piece of seaweed chokes me
and I drop the bowl of miso from my hands.
Mariah Rigg is a writer from Honolulu, Hawaii. She has fiction published in Hawaii Pacific Review, flash fiction longlisted for the Writer’s HQ Quarterly Prize, and has been nominated for the 2020 PEN/Robert J Dau Emerging Writers Award. She holds a BA from Claremont Mckenna College and is currently pursuing an MFA from the University of Oregon.
