Amalie@kua

Melts the sun
With her ferocity– stripped away,
Turned into fragility,

We gasp as moon swallows sun.

We call it: “catastrophe,” as if —  it is different.

A child nursed of negligence.

Yes, it is not ours —

In the skeletal frame of a fence, 

nestled deep in the overgrown wiring,

Where vines wind up and veins wrap down: 

a ribcage, constructed by their love, nurtures love. 

And your dark, knotted hair falls, 

   trailing along and settling 

        in the crevice of collarbone, 

ravine of spine,  

The silence that once spread

in the deepest of winter, is ever so often

broken.

Hear the robin's hope

now, unfurling faintly on a frozen breeze.