(10 More:) Afterwards

is the gasp and the catch of ten thousand mouths singing wordless as they come up for air

is the burn of brine and the salt that streams and streams in the lungs afterwards

is a muddy hem and the sleeve of what once was a tree or a door that opens the chest

is the buoy or the bell or the shape of the coast or the bodice of a church folded at the seams

is the thread of a voice that left its hungry tongue at the door of the ear

is the staircase spiraling down to the floor of the sea where the ghost of a ship explores

is the room in the school where people sleep under blankets of powdered chalk

is chicken coop wire unrolled like a carpet in the plaza where statues have been bent

is red and red and brown and red and blue and sheets of lime in the open grave

is the scar that climbs the trellis to rest on the cheek of the moon

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.