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Poetry by
Kristy Bowen
Photo by
Jill Burhans.
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Sugar
The words will find you
laid bare and wanting
the light devouring
a thousand brides in water--
their memory in your blood,
knots you tied between
here and there.
Your fingers will wander
the ridges of his body,
and you will wonder,
learn hunger, your skin
burning like a bundle of sticks.
He writes letters in his sleep,
licks the delicate curve of your ear,
pins down what he forgets--
the grey in your eyes,
how you like your coffee,
all sugar, all milk,
weak and sweet as syrup.
When you speak, it's like honey,
the flutter of wings and drones
harbors in the bones
of your throat. You wake up
sighing, go to sleep divining.
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