Silence

Katrina Kaye

Silence sat
still on the
corner of
cheekbone
and 12th street.

It goes unnoticed,
defies the wind,
flits the skin,
begging recognition.

It is the same
silence that
barricades the
veins with oversized
platelets causing
the heart
to cease a beat.

Creating a moment
of complete
stillness between
our bodies until

with the tip of finger
eyelash is removed
and with pursed lips,
blown away.

All it is

Katrina Kaye

is the salty tongue

of the ocean

against my back.

All it is,
is stick on skin,

splash on hands, hair.

A taste in the
back of my throat.

All it is,
is water and sand,

debris in patterns around feet.

All it is,
is stars and a sky,

mist from yesterday’s shower,

a fragrance left to mix in the wind.

All it is,
is a breeze.

But I swear
it felt like your touch,
and this melody
of crush and curl,

I hear it
saying your words
in my ear.

All it is,
is dark,

but I swear
this night is a tapestry

hung over shoulders.
Rough wool against brown skin.

I feel you around me,

cracked hands

cradled

green and gold.

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

east

Katrina Kaye

You said,

take what
I want
and leave
the key
under the mat.

But as I stand
leaning on
front door frame,

I see
nothing
that belongs
to me.

Instead
I leave the
key in the
door and
walk east
and stare
into rising sun

wondering
how many
steps it will
take to forget
your name.

“east” is previously published in Weasel Press (2022) and Introspection Quarterly (2022)..