What are you letting go of?

after Kait Quinn

The girl, the husk powdery to touch,

frightened of fear and the secrets it keeps.

The awe in my eyes when I see you,

stitched in the elegant bow of willow trees.

Love and beauty, the kingdom of frost

melting into mid-july, the childhood of us.

The begging, words thick with dust,

smothered by questions and if you ever loved me at all.

Heaven’s gates and the spirit hands reaching

soft like fire, warm like bad choices in November.

My apologies, for being lonely, for knowing I’m lonely

and loving in spite of the way you bare your teeth.

Sadness, its inexorable kiss, molten chains

branding my breasts. Sadness, our tryst

with the darkness unspooling at dusk.

This – my palms – iron heavy with misplaced trust.

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