Katrina Kaye
I’ve been too gentle with the removal
of dust and filth and discoloration.
Water doesn’t cleanse the way it used to.
The dirt remains and darkens into stain.
Water is not enough.
Fire may be the better option.
Instead of attempting to scrub my soul
of its various colors, it may be better to
burn it to ash, turn the solid to smoke,
and when all that is left is scorched and brittle,
the wind can aid in the
scattering of what remains.
Katrina Kaye
There is a crack inside me
impossible to see with the naked eye
because it is covered with flesh and bone,
muscle and vein,
but underneath
all the intricacies that have made up
this form there is a vacant space,
a hollow.
There was a time I rushed to fill it
to store
people and places and simple memories.
There was a time when the emptiness terrified me.
People should not have holes.
Are we not made
of solid stuff?
But I have made peace with the void within.
I am no longer afraid of the echo
of my voice.
I no longer seek to be filled.
Instead I sit quiet and cross legged
feeling the shelter
that comes
from nothingness.
Within that hollow,
I can allow my eyes to close
and my pulse to slow.
I can breathe deep and be;
exist, continue.
I can find peace.
I am not
limited by my body
or the emptiness it holds.
“Empty” is previously published in Metonym Journal (2024).
Katrina Kaye
unlike clouds and the ripples of river currents
we still resemble our former identities
long after we have transformed into something else
sometimes the shift is so slow
we don’t even realize the change until long after it occurs
nature is much more abrupt in the turning of season
the molding of weather patterns and swings of daylight
she doesn’t always have that much patience and
what she does have she saves for mountain ranges
we are somewhere between the rock and the raindrop
realizing our transformation only in retrospection
“Transformation” is previously published in Amazine (2025).
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