after Saskia Hamilton's It Fled
It stayed
where I had left it—
in your eyes
growing feathers
beak sharp
and ready to pry open
my dreams—
and it died
without anyone
touching it.
YOU ARE READING
eating the moon
Poetrycatalog of small tortures highest ranking: #2 in poemcollection © z. t. corley, 2023
IT STAYED
after Saskia Hamilton's It Fled
It stayed
where I had left it—
in your eyes
growing feathers
beak sharp
and ready to pry open
my dreams—
and it died
without anyone
touching it.
