Armor

Katrina Kaye

Night is
a tapestry
hung over
shoulders,
rough wool
against
brown skin.
I feel you,
arms around
my body,
a cradle
of green
and gold.

“Armor” is previously published in Saturday’s Sirens (2020).

Blackbird

Katrina Kaye

we wanted wings
for the fine weather

but it’s much
colder

one hundred feet
in the air

we did not
anticipate the chill

so we flew rapid
trying to chase

body heat
back into our veins

into our hearts
beating blackened wings

through the memory
of awkward shaped clouds

which lack the reprieve
of heaven

“Blackbird” is previously published in To Anyone Who Has Ever Loved a Writer (2014).

Katrina Kaye

I am elegant
in surf:
a better
swimmer than
most land
bound creatures,
resistant to
regain straight
legged pose.

You can tell
by the arch
of my back
I can keep afloat
after the moon
rips her tides.

I thought
letting body
simmer to
surface
was the only
way to
feel grace
until my waves
met your shore.

I do not grip
to your coast
because I think
I will drown.

I hold on
because I
can’t bear
to let you go.

“Coastline” is previously published in Otherwise Engaged (2022).