from “Red, Requiem”

Ginger

There is always
a door. & a door can
either be open
or shut.

Feathers, flowers,
sticks &
stones. You can
grab my skin but
you’ll never get
my bones.

Small things move
fast. I’m faster
than the fastest
fly & quicker
than a bug. Now
you see me, now
you don’t.

Tree on hill? Check! &
so many ravens— a
conspiracy, a constable,
an unkindness of.

A feather
for my collection. Bare
tree, bare-
foot. Feathers &
flowers & telephone lines
line the forest, cut through
the trees for the forest.

In the forest the wolves
were small & there was
small music & I danced
with the girl
in the forest & I wore
red & she wore white
or black & the shape
her mouth made when
she said mouth made me
want to kiss her, her
mouth, & we lied we lie
down, down, lie still.

& still
not, my sister, skin
& bones, shut
the door, hang
up the phone.

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