Knives

Katrina Kaye

The knives she gave me
are perfect for slicing
strawberries at 10:24 pm
on a Thursday.

Almost too easy,
the way the fruit falls apart.

I miss her then.
Miss her sweetness
on tart tongue,
miss the way she told me
of true love
over and over by
counting my vertebrae
on slick fingers,
ticking off time.

There are too many knives
left behind.

More than half still wrapped
in cardboard and plastic,
held together with thin rubber bands.

The others stained with the juice
of fruit already sliced.

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

Poetry Prompt: Why I stopped…

What is something you used to do but no longer practice. It could be a vice (like smoking) or maybe talking to a certain person or some other general habit that you once practiced.

Title the poem: “Reasons why I stopped…….” (fill in your blank)and create a list poem of why your habit has changed. Extra points if you never mention what the habit is in the entire piece.

Forever

Katrina Kaye

The lies have always
come easy. A candy coated
vibration between tongue and tooth.

But the promise of forever
sparse slips between lips;

sweet slander,
rarely invoked.

That truth came early and often,
at least to anyone paying attention
to the shift of sun across sky,

the bloom of flower toward dawn,
or the ceaseless shedding of skin cells.

The flux of uncertainty,
measured only by the assurance of change
leaves hands grasping for stone monuments
and brick buildings, as if holding on to
a hardier composition can create a sense
of stability.

As though one may convince
themselves there is no impermanence at all,

but we have all witnessed
the easy break and eventual mend of bone.
We have regularly watched the shift of clouds
constructing and destructing across sky.

I have never been one to count
my syllables, or consider the validity of each
statement that cusses from mouth,

but forever is one lie
I will forever
resist.

“Forever” is previously published on Saturday’s Sirens (2023).