Sin

Katrina Kaye

a quick kiss by car door,

pretty lies from parted lips,

a look too long lingered.

these acts may be more gift than vice.

we were windstorm at the door; a dry desert of dust and devils.

i have become bold despite the hitch in my side,

the limp in get up and go.

i am wearing a souvenir:

a too big jangle around boney wrist,

a prize earned from the last match between you and me.

even now before all the whims of the saints,

I can’t help but to stretch out the remnants of what passed.

how can I see these rare gestures as just another sweet sin?

Reminiscence

Katrina Kaye

As the unsullied sun
peaks over the Sandias,
I recall the mornings
after your nightshift
when you would slip
into my room.

Your movements, slow
and silent, intent on letting
me sleep for that final hour,
but my eyes moved behind
closed lids, searching for you.

You undressed like a ghost and
crept in next to me,
still smelling of bar food,
cigarettes, cleaning solution,
a life I left behind.

It was only a twin bed
but somehow we fit.
We held each other,
my hand to your heart,
head tucked under your chin,
breathing slow and deep,
trying to create a lifetime
in less than an hour.

Sometimes,
I still think about you.

“Reminiscence” is previously published in A Scattering of Imperfections (2009).

Rabbit Moon

Katrina Kaye

When the sky is black
against the shine of full belly moon,
I hear your call.

You grin yellow nicotine teeth,
breathing smoke from last night
when the harvest moon
caught you in mind leap.

Sometimes I think
I am the only person in
the world who longs for
the jaundice of the night’s sky,
who wants to wrap myself
in the foul yellow glow
you spread as invitation.

I wade waist deep
into the bright of black
and trace your fleeing form
with eyes too often
closed to the wonder
of full moon.

You have a way of
insisting on more than
what my fingertips can
ever reach so I merely
watch, hold my breath,
keep your silence.

It is what you love
about me.

‘Rabbit Moon” is previously published at La Luna – Visions of the Moon at Tortuga Gallery (2020).