After You Left

Katrina Kaye

I hung your shadow outside my window,
so hopefully you would come to retrieve it.

I was always more your Wendy
than your mermaid.

My scales never stuck to your skin
and my name easily escaped your mind,
leaving me to wonder
if you ever really knew me.

I gave you my thimble too soon,
a clever kiss and nothing more,
too eager for the fondness of a new boy.

I was more your Wendy than your fairy friend.
My hands too soft for metal work,
my body too large for just one emotion.

But you,
you were always my Peter.
Cock-sure, congratulating your cleverness,
miss minded and forgetful

Your attentions waver,
but your affection your loyalty
was as stubborn as a child’s lower lip.

You stayed up all night in front of my door
hand on your dagger, spark in your eye
knowing from the curl of smoke
mischief was about.

But I never asked you to fight my battles.
You never had to win me;
I was always yours.

After all, it was the kiss
you left on my chest that saved my life.

I want to be your fierce friend,
your clever cousin,
dance with you on high rocks,
without fear of falling.

Listen to your first laugh
like a child watching soap bubbles pop.

Let that laugh linger
on your breath for eternity,
even if it means leaving you
to your own adventures.

Too many years have passed.
You have forgotten me.
Left me sitting beside
a window in my new dress.

And I,
I have forgotten how to fly.

I became a woman
two days before every other girl.
I no longer listen for your crow.
You have become nothing
more than dust on old toys.
I grew up despite my childish promises.

This woman’s voice no longer knows
how to speak to such a boy.

But I’ll still think of you
in that place between sleeping and awake,
where we still remember dreaming.

Your shadow waits upon window sill.

Come,
reclaim it,

before returning to
your wandering island,
trailing
my childhood
and best intentions
in a shimmering wake.

“After You Left” is previously published in Leaves of Ink (2013), They Don’t Make Memories Like That Anymore (2011), and September (2014).

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Every Woman

Katrina Kaye

Every woman has
a Persephone story

because every woman
has gone through hell

at least once and many
were put there

by the men who
loved them most.

“Every Woman” is previously published in Rabbits for Luck (2016).

Hotel

Katrina Kaye

This room is broken blackbird with misshapen wings.

You are cheap hotel bed sheets,
rough to the touch,
slipping too easily off the corners of a mattress
too hard for the spine.

I am crushed pomegranate seeds
popping between tongue and teeth,
a temporary stain shared on lips.

These gestures are swollen feet and strained nerves.

The pressure of thumb
on throat as we take this kiss
is assurance your intentions
are not to break me.

We slide and sling like cocktails and olives,
one sipping off the other
until we are both helpless.

The cuss of your breath on my neck,
and the pinch of thumb on thigh,
conjures dread for the morning’s rippling cold.

These window panes are splitting sunrises
and eleven am check outs.

While you rise, I retrace promises you carved in
tender flesh of eyelids and inner arm.

Pretending to sleep, I listen,
with hands curled under chin,
the sounds of your departure.

You have dug a trench inside me
from gut to gullet.

You fill me there.

“Hotel” is previously published in the collection, my verse…, published by Swimming with Elephants Publications, LLC in 2012.