Glass Poetry Press

Volume One Issue Two

Patty Paine

salt; or the night you left

engulf me like a body a stranger printed on skin ocean me your childhood and all its terrible birds shuddering violence look at me, pretend I am your mouth your clavicle the bloom of your stabbing once all we shared was a word uttered near a silent cave now everything has a feel of rain and your face mirrored in midnight wears goodbye