Katrina Kaye
Something went wrong
when I was forgiving myself,
shedding my sins
like the “love me not”
petals of a drooping daisy.
there must have been
a syllable to the spell I left out,
or a verse I didn’t say
in the right order.
there must have
been more to include
that slipped my mind
slipped my hands,
fell to the floor,
scattered, like white petals,
still moist to the
touch of my bare feet.
“Spell” is previously published in Amazine (2025).
Katrina Kaye
The woman I was is desperate
to find conciliation with the woman I will be.
We come together inside aging skin
and seek a stretch of days to cradle and
consolidate all that cannot be forfeit
before opening to all that is to come.
I am not yet finished.
I must create the new out of fragments of what was,
exchange the innocent for the seasoned.
The skin, once raw,
have felt the heat of summer days.
The trivial mixed with the essential
and all the slippery spots in between
seek a union, a compromise,
a new form, eager and able to embrace
all that is to come.
What once was green
|is now ripened red.
“In Between” is previously published in Introspection Quarterly (2022).
Katrina Kaye
You can tell he still loves her
by the way he shades
the muscles of her arm,
careful sketches over rounded flesh.
She left pencil shavings clinging to him,
spider webs grazing the top of his head
woven into unwashed hair.
He looks for her in the morning,
reaches across a cold bed
to trace her outline in head crushed pillow.
Not yet ready to replace these impressions,
or wash her scent from loose sheets.
He pretends he can hold her,
keep her safe,
a green and yellow parakeet
nestled in his palm.
Head twisting back,
sharp black eyes reflect
thick fingers around fragile frame.
He was sure,
despite
the flick of restless glances,
the spit of tears from a cursing tongue,
the hollowness in the cage of her ribs,
she would keep.
So sure
he could reverse rip currents
pump air into languid lungs,
resurrect the broken.
You can tell he still loves her
by the way he won’t catch your eye,
the small tremble in his voice
when he says her name
and looks away.
“Sketchbook” is previously published in The Fall of a Sparrow (2014).
Chasing Rabbits 
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