my heart

Katrina Kaye

with apologies to Stephen Crane

he said it was 
my heart
but I
ate of it regardless

devoured each
drop with desperate
truth over sour

I did not recognize
the taste as my own

my heart
when consumed
becomes part of me

and yet
and yet and yet and yet
my stomach does not fill

I remain malnourished
and I know only hollow

I slip inside cocoon
a meditation

all eyes 
look the same and I 
boil in fever

the rage passes and I am a 
railroad eager
to travel the transatlantic

eager to bypass
all the minutia 
that makes up the
daily toil

it is not logical
to traffic in wants,
but I am so hungry

I will mortgage 
my future for the satisfaction
of a kind word and
a precious moment.

let me wrap you in the chill
of morning

and offer up a bite
or two


“my heart” is previously published in Scissortail Quarterly (2020).


Katrina Kaye

Silence sat
still on the
corner of
and 12th street.

It goes unnoticed,
defies the wind,
flits the skin,
begging recognition.

It is the same
silence that
barricades the
veins with oversized
platelets causing
the heart
to cease a beat.

Creating a moment
of complete
stillness between
our bodies until

with the tip of finger
eyelash is removed
and with pursed lips,
blown away.

All it is

Katrina Kaye

is the salty tongue

of the ocean

against my back.

All it is,
is stick on skin,

splash on hands, hair.

A taste in the
back of my throat.

All it is,
is water and sand,

debris in patterns around feet.

All it is,
is stars and a sky,

mist from yesterday’s shower,

a fragrance left to mix in the wind.

All it is,
is a breeze.

But I swear
it felt like your touch,
and this melody
of crush and curl,

I hear it
saying your words
in my ear.

All it is,
is dark,

but I swear
this night is a tapestry

hung over shoulders.
Rough wool against brown skin.

I feel you around me,

cracked hands


green and gold.

“All it is” is previously published in The Fall of a Sparrow (2014).