Today's poem is by Hillary Gravendyk

[I Carry Your Taste as if It Were A Stone]

I carry your taste as if it were a stone. Not your skin, but what it
touches, what it fails to touch. We take in a scene from the front
steps, rinse it of color. Then birds rush from your throat singing and
falling, singing and falling. It's the inside of a dream, the air gray as
a dead TV, the screen transected by wings. Follow the arrows out of
my heart. Nothing guides you like the thing that leaves you, nothing
stills your hand. The room a size smaller than the room before. It's
a sign of misfortune, I think, shifting a handful of gravel into the
pocket of my dress. The return message. You laugh and your body
crumples like a page. You feed me need and I open my mouth to
receive it.

Copyright © 2018 Hillary Gravendyk All rights reserved
from The Soluble Hour
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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