Offspring
Published in
Aug 6, 2022
A dark-lighted glaze colored the sky,
Smelling of cinnamon and unnecessary things.
Except it smells like everything you need:
The firelight of the holy waters.
The womb is empty now.
The thighs, ugly now.
But the brown-feathered birds are through the world.
Five girls; always together, forming a flock of stars.
The sun will follow them all the time, like a cushioning light
Because only God knew how many times her children will fall,
When they learn to fly.
