1
In the parking lot his skin hums
cherry blossom & hers
honeysuckle returned wild summer
takes & takes & gives up
a bearing of teeth to tackle
young birds
from their bright Venus-bound
flights
2
He gifts her words gifts
her tongue & hallowed
sunburn cave-like, his mouth
tumbles amethyst
he proclaims apricot, fearless,
eqinox offers saccharine, fidelity
is there a lovelier word? she thinks,
bodiless
3
Verdant he wakes to dream &
smokes the skyline raw
plans a third-floor apartment
with a second bedroom for his own
things: records, anything
he can’t afford but spends
the day, charges it to credit
& she prepares for a New York City
she’ll never see, doesn’t exist
same as at sixteen she imagines
storefronts as swing sets, strolling bare
with egret feet through dampest streets
4
He says cruelty, thunderstorm, indigo though
she knows he’ll never make incense
of his bones, burn
the blue from his irises
He says I am deeply human
& she turns flown, eats ash
forgives him
5
& still despite words like need
the winter fog is a mirror
reflecting half- baked solace the fog is a mirror
the mirror can’t replicate
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 2.
Erin Slaughter holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Western Kentucky University. She has been a finalist for Glimmer Train’s Very Short Fiction Contest, and was nominated for a Best of the Net Award and a Pushcart Prize.See all items about Erin Slaughter
