my heart

Katrina Kaye

with apologies to Stephen Crane

he said it was 
my heart
but I
ate of it regardless

devoured each
drop with desperate
truth over sour
tongue

I did not recognize
the taste as my own

my heart
when consumed
becomes part of me

and yet
and yet and yet and yet
my stomach does not fill

I remain malnourished
and I know only hollow

I slip inside cocoon
a meditation

all eyes 
look the same and I 
boil in fever

the rage passes and I am a 
railroad eager
to travel the transatlantic

eager to bypass
all the minutia 
that makes up the
daily toil

it is not logical
to traffic in wants,
but I am so hungry

I will mortgage 
my future for the satisfaction
of a kind word and
a precious moment.

let me wrap you in the chill
of morning

and offer up a bite
or two

 

“my heart” is previously published in Scissortail Quarterly (2020).

All it is

Katrina Kaye

is the salty tongue

of the ocean

against my back.

All it is,
is stick on skin,

splash on hands, hair.

A taste in the
back of my throat.

All it is,
is water and sand,

debris in patterns around feet.

All it is,
is stars and a sky,

mist from yesterday’s shower,

a fragrance left to mix in the wind.

All it is,
is a breeze.

But I swear
it felt like your touch,
and this melody
of crush and curl,

I hear it
saying your words
in my ear.

All it is,
is dark,

but I swear
this night is a tapestry

hung over shoulders.
Rough wool against brown skin.

I feel you around me,

cracked hands

cradled

green and gold.

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

east

Katrina Kaye

You said,

take what
I want
and leave
the key
under the mat.

But as I stand
leaning on
front door frame,

I see
nothing
that belongs
to me.

Instead
I leave the
key in the
door and
walk east
and stare
into rising sun

wondering
how many
steps it will
take to forget
your name.

“east” is previously published in Weasel Press (2022) and Introspection Quarterly (2022)..