Unbound Issue 3 | Page 12

POETRY

THREE POEMS

THREE

Photography by Crystal Toole

POEMS

THE DATE

By Mary-Celeste Schreuder
Do you remember that smothered summer night so long ago when I was just a girl? You sent me dancing, a ritual of sorts, to learn what I should be.
In preparation, you snatched me like a paper doll bending the edges of the red dress round my scrawny shoulders, lined with black lace clinging far above the knee.
Do you remember how you rouged my cheeks, curled my straight locks, rubbed off the dirt with a damp towel that made me itch? The making of a woman. Then propped me up against the barren wall, zoomed in and shot, immortalizing the moment. Later framing— trapping me behind the glass. Imprisoned but not unseen.
Do you remember how later that night I placed the paper napkin on my lap and crossed my legs? Mimicking the lovely ladies whose eyes hovered around me, heads bent in submission, straining to hear the omnipotent grunt of their man— pleasured.

ARTIST’ S STATEMENT

For me art and creating is an outlet and an avenue to get closer to God. Through art I can experience his purpose in creating us. I love beauty and believe that everyone is beautiful and deserves a chance to shine. When I got involved in trafficking ministries I quickly found that it hit close to home. Abuse and neglect are no stranger in my family’ s history and I am excited that our chains have been broken. I pray for everyone to be able to escape the bonds of slavery and abuse. I studied art at Hope College and graduated with a degree in studio art. I have two beautiful children and one adopted child on the way. My husband and I have been married for 10 years and we reside in Holland, Michigan.
Crystal Toole

MEETING A

SURVIVOR
When we first met I was a torrent. An ocean of waves, swirling thoughts pushing and pulling across my mind.
flooding your embers of irradiated secrets, until I was stilled; quieted by the truth you held in your hands— a gift.

HUSTLER

By Mary-Celeste Schreuder

POET’ S

STATEMENT
By Mary-Celeste Schreuder
And there you were with the past of a deepest nightmare hidden behind a barrier of walls, tucked into the dark.
But it was reckless to be there, you having just survived, still living in shadow and mea like a too bright light
So that next time, I would be a pool where another could dip their toes, and somehow, someway, find something … resembling peace.
Your girl was a box at first so open— she let you crawl in, a comfortable space.
Taking your place, eliciting chains: you trapped her from the inside out.
Striking her walls,“ love” you reassured as she weakened under resistance and time.
Then one night, she finally succumbed, crushed to one dimension. You stood; walked away.
And in the morning, the wind dispersed her tattered pieces— fractured and forgotten.
I am originally from Minnesota but now live and work in Oxford, England as an English language teacher. My poems have appeared in the National Gallery of Writing and The Broad River Review. Thank you so much for allowing me the opportunity to share my work.
Mary-Celeste Schreuder
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