Poetry

Earthquake

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

The day you
asked me
to marry you,

I should
have broke
in two,
snapped twig,
the froth
on the mouth
of dead dog.

You were
the only
door frame left
standing amid
the rubble.

I should have
stretched out inside
the safety
you gifted me.

I should have
given you the
answer that would
mend the earth,
rebuild buildings,
stack bricks,
unscorch broken glass.

I should have
said yes.

Instead,
I sent ripples
vibrating
through ground.

I toppled trees,
kicked fire hydrants,
released panicked dogs
to the streets.

I should have given
you one perfect day.

Instead, I left the
ground to quake.

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

The Funeral

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

I know better than to wear mascara
to a funeral. I have no shame in
the tears rolling down my cheeks.
My chin remains level, eyes wide.
I brush streaks aside with open palm,
the flat of thumb. I don’t need
the comfort of cloth. I am soured by
the eyes of the saints. They hang from
wood and window trying not to show
us their wounds, yet the blood drips from
crosses over our heads. I am no longer
a child.

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

Mine

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

you
you are mine

for me

you are the silver
on my fingers

the sweat along
my temples

you are mine

a confidence I don’t
have to share
or confess

a secret
not exactly
hidden
but owned

I have no
lingering value
or clandestine
treasure

there is just
who I am

and you
my gift

“Mine” is previously published in Rabbits for Luck (2016).