She

She visited me tonight,

pressed her hand

against my heart,

caught my breath

in her palm

and asked me if I felt,

her anger, her apathy

and dismay.

 

She visited me tonight,

pulled apart

each knuckle

and asked me how,

many times

I’d held your hand,

then threatened

to pin loss

in my sides,

to lock her heartache

into my ribcage.

 

She visited me tonight,

promised I’d keep you

only as a whisper,

as a love letter

written and stowed,

as a postcard

never sent,

told me I’d lose

you, to the aether

she’d enchanted

with lies.

 

© Kristiana Reed 2018

 

Image credit. 

 

 

25 thoughts on “She”

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