Katrina Kaye

I am nothing,
if not transparent;

skin a shallow

cloak

clearly

spotted with

intentions

colored and

shaded by layers

of cells

unfurling.

I am missing teeth,
the stubbornness
of religion; I am mourning
more than I thought I would.

I am combat.

I am ridiculous.

I am not even
a smile
and a lazy morning.

I am coated in silent patience,
an empty womb; I am dust 
in the sunlight, an afterthought;
a million miles removed.

I am nothing
if not easy to
see through.

I am ghost,

film,

translucent,

nothing.

“Transparent” is previously published in Otherwise Engaged (2022) and in Saturday’s Sirens (2020)