Sweet Juice and Young Bones
Because today my hands
started to unravel the wires
of the telephone pole, the ones
in the middle of the street
connecting terraced homes together.
Familiar facades showing familiar window,
showing outgoing smiles and orange evening lights,
yet when our night, the room blues in my face,
I play all the records of dead people
while I wonder where my older nights have gone,
while your supernatural vision eyes are eyeing me
soberly, and my thoughts hit my head, cringe together
like a family of birds
suddenly leaving me more peaceful than seasons,
than power, or your searching glances, leaving me
more private and unafraid
because today I am
from the sea and will laugh soon enough
over your beige wallpaper and white bedroom,
the sky calls and my young eyes
start being the weapons I need because of today.
Copyright © Kate Copeland | Year Posted 2021
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