Stone

 

her thighs

sore with memory

shift back and forth as she walks

uphill toward the train

she is all tears and fog

left alone to soon

captured by ten years of

photographs transformed to

what now looks like regret

 

her body has been an earthquake shift

tectonic plates sliding out of place

revealing hidden earth, graves and bodies

 

she walks crooked

asphalt under her cracked now

like the day she is about to encounter

loss stinging her cheeks

like the fog in the air

 

she is demented metal

sidewalk trash fury

on the side of skyscrapers

ill-fitting and torn

 

the train is coming

breeze sucking air from tunnels

she stands spine tall to keep her

chest from caving in

hollow from giving voice

to echoes, ghosts

and orange desire.

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