Mavka #38.

Indestructible life!—the Sun a yolk that breaks
all morning. A crow shimmers and upon the green

guard-rail bobs as I cross Bear Creek on my drive

to work. I would rather drive into you all that I
mourn: loves gorged by artificial famines—

dogs feeding from graveyards; loves charred
by blood—I would empty

myself of the steak-knives carving up my lover's
wrists, those voices she obeyed, and passions

long ago abandoned to lap-dancing and meth-

amphetamines. Everything that has ever made me
weep distilled into one tablespoon of living brine.

Copyright © 2010 Padma Thornlyre All rights reserved
from The Literary Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission