Katrina Kaye

inspired by Salvador Dali

He always painted her by a window.
A gold thread woven by her brother’s careful hand.

Thin curtains, like the inventions of monsters,
oscillate on either side of her in the breeze like
patient lovers and little ashes.

Amidst sand and gravel glued to canvas,
sways the finery of the broken bridge of a dream.
She stands untouched wrapped in the purity of white
and the blue of a sublime sky shimmering off of the sea.

She holds the skin of orchestras in the head of roses
and picks petals from trembling piano keys.
A symphony in red performed by instruments
birthed on liquid desires.

She remains a meditative rose,
forever at Spanish window ledge,
a faceless dream triggered by the flight of a bee
around a pomegranate one second before waking up.

Previously Published in Vermilion Literary Magazine (2022).