Katrina Kaye

You are the drops of summer
rain shimmered gold on skin.

You are the child too young
for my bitter heart,
my yellow bird,
the last bloom of August.

I knew I was in love with you
after the first time
I heard you laugh in your sleep.

Every song is a melody
shaped by your lips.

The same lips that
brush my forehead
when I curl to by side.

The same lips that shot
an arrow at my back
as I walked away. I was too
proud to turn around.

Your laugh will always be
one of my favorite things.

“Danea” is previously published in Fevers of the Mind (2021).