Katrina Kaye

I am dripping,
bent over shell and broken back.

A flutter of promises,

hopes I was never given but
manifested in my spine just the same,

emerge and take shape.

I am told what I have formed

is somehow
good enough.

It is not
good enough.

I desire the simplicity;
I want so much less
than what I have become.

I never asked for these wings.

“Hatch” is previously published in Fevers of the Mind (2022).


Katrina Kaye

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

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


Katrina Kaye

she says she remembers
and looks toward the floor

it is the easiest way
to respond to these questions

the days
when she could
sit with legs crossed
and grin into another person
without a moment of restraint
or fear of impending judgment
have fogged over like so
much hot breath upon looking glass

it is less painful to cast eyes downward

she knows
if she is silent long enough,
they will stop asking

they will go away

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