I’m not writing to you

I’m not writing to you

I’m writing to the river
that opened your hair
carried you to the sea

I’m writing to the sea
that polishes your broken glass
turning it to petals

I’m writing to the rain
that darkened your slate
made it slick and sharp

I’m writing to the high grass
that traced your palms
that cut you without drawing blood

I’m writing to the stones you chose
asking them to tell me about
the taste of your hands

I’m writing to the sunlight
that turned to dust
as it settled on your skin

I’m writing to the wind
that blew you inside out
tugged at your frayed threads

I’m writing to the breaths
that settled tender as snow
bloomed as bruises on your skin

I’m writing to the dark
that held you at the end
to the flames

spilling themselves
into the flooded chambers
of your heart

I’m writing to the smoke
to the rags of ghosts
collapsed all over my ceiling

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: