Waiting
I wanted to build a home with you
somewhere in the marshy grass of the beach
there is a woman still waiting
wedding dress like seaweed;
green was her favorite color
her hair was strings
by the end
arms frozen
back bowed forward from the wind
eyes seared mouth contorted
She must have been screaming something
when she looked back
As She Became Birds
Maybe you don’t get my new body
The one you almost killed
is gone
I gravitated toward you still
Newly adorned in feathers
Capable of flight!
More economical, physically
I drape myself in beauty
sometimes ashamed
at the hollowing
I still turned you on
though
you hated it
Either you would snuff me out
or I would prove my scaliness
no longer human
cross shrew with crow:
you forgot who I am
Sober You
I have conversations with your pictures sometimes
Like widows at a gravesite
Sober you would understand
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