Sandra Kov

it was a relentless winter
history heavy with flakes bursting red,
I lay down in it with my own nerves and blood
 
a gun kissed sap into my wound
sweet love, do you know what it's like to live in strawberry jam guts?
jars of skylight filled to the brim: emptied
 
my mother cried over me
watch the past melt everything–
the lies cannot be overlooked
 
one end is silence
what weighs down your heart can't be solved, only articulated
an overheard language breathing through course, heavy, and blistered sentences
 
my heart's all over my body–
pounding, lost, dead
a bridge between starshine and clay
 
I was longing for the visible
grieve, weep, cry if you need to
wander for a day
 
the fields of lavender,
the black kitten still trying to crawl,
the blue water paradise,
 
the pleasure of a new future melting into a boy with brown eyes
dancing between the storm,
who was I before?
 
healing with an even calmer happiness,
we go out for sweets & come back
you can hear it hum: peace softer than singing
 
This poem uses language from: 
“summer, somewhere” by Danez Smith 
“Umpaowastewin” by Margaret Noodin 
“Whatever I Did After Has Not Happened Yet” by Javier Zamora 
“Hotel Couplets” by Lisa Robertson 
“The Cow” by Ogden Nash 
and “East African Proverbs” by an unknown writer and translated by A.M. Juster.