Sun

Katrina Kaye

Your world is absent of light.
Dust reflected in rare brightness
only to disappear behind western vista.

Enveloped in gloom,
you watch from thick shadows
the world succumbing to the dim,
you fade in the dusk.

If I promise to follow you into the night,
take your path away from the sun
and wrap myself in your darkness,

will you sit beside me,
fingers interlaced with my own,
and watch the sun rise?

“Sun” is previously published in They Don’t Make Memories Like That Anymore (2011).

Lifeboat

Katrina Kaye

The first time,

I held death in the salt water of lung
hopeful to be pulled on raft and have
air pressed into chest.

The second time, I pushed
under the water.

I let go knowing full well there was
no point in waiting for a kind hand.

I will not give anyone the
the satisfaction to mourn my death,

not when I can still
keep head above water.

I may have been made
a fool for carrying crosses,
but I earned them.

They keep me afloat.

and these storms leave
such peace in their wake.

“Lifeboat” is previously published in Chasing Rabbits (2012).

Katrina Kaye

if i curl
tight enough
in the hidden
hole between

awake and asleep

i can retain
warmth

if i am
still and silent
in the soft
space between

night and day

i can feel
my body beat
i can clear
my voice and
whisper my
intentions

if i stay here,
eyes closed,
mind uninterrupted
in the comfort between

oblivion and
sensibility

i can pretend
i have not
been forgotten

i can let
time turn her
face to the sun
and close
her eyes
to the light

my loneliness
will matter

my emptiness
will be realized

this is where
i find myself
where time is
relative and
the darkness
can’t get me

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