Myth

Katrina Kaye

In the darkness
I had you.

On vast plains,
in deep caves,
you were there.

We rode bareback
over land that provided
food, drink, and shelter.
What it did not give,
you could.

I waited out the snow
with you in my arms,
surviving off your heat.

And when spring came,
sun baked life back into the earth,
into the people;

I was already there

alive with you.

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

Kore

Katrina Kaye

he changed
my name, mother

he painted my
hair red and left
my skin hidden from
childish strokes
of sun

for three months
I hid in back rooms
knowing full well
the sun was shinning

I found comfort in the
shadow of his kindness
mother,

did you realize
this ripening fruit
was ready to be plucked?

In your absence
I fell from vine

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

Her Absence

Katrina Kaye

I do not regret the days
I spent loving you in her absence.

I do not regret
your tempered touches
as you searched for her skin
under my scales

or the way your eyes reflected
her sharp chin and freckled chest
when they fell on my frame.

I do not regret
the fleeting space we created,
morning gestures
in the folds of sheet and flesh.

Tending your wounds
with tongue and time.

You found solace
with your elbows on my table,
your dirty feet in my bed,
but I knew you would exit
on your own side to look
out the south facing window.

She was ever present
upon the waves of your thoughts.

Your ears keen for her voice,
but I heard it first,
soft as the buzz of bumble bees on the beach
calling you home.

I do not regret
returning to a solitary balcony
above the ocean’s turning point,
or slipping inside my bed,
still warm in your place.

As you kiss my hands
in gratitude of my hospitality,
my kindness,

don’t leave thinking,
I am emptied.

I gave what I wanted,
no more,
no less.

“Her Absence” is previously published in the collection, my verse…, published by Swimming with Elephants Publications, LLC in 2012 and Vox Poetica in 2011.