The Next State Over
How many times have I been here - aching for the beginning of before? Hot hands submerged plucking glass pieces How can capability strangle lifting forks to centers unguarded? Soft and stabbing I should be grateful I should be grateful Walking planks tuck me into scratchy coughs and wrap me in a fire crackling Half the floor is gone The sink is chained to the only window with a view so I can see the sun dip below my composure
The Sweet Singer
O, David, give me your heart
Cut your hem of cloth
and break my leavened body
before the earth
Tempt me into transformation
Am I not the one you sing to?
I’ve heard your longing
Selah
I’ll write your verses in the night
if you come for me with your
miracles of wine and wonder
Can you see me from your window?
Do I remind you of God?
Save me from wicked hands
chained in gold and jewels
Hide me in your kingdom
Forever
Kiley Lee first encountered poetry while wading through her mother's library as a child. This experience began in her a life-long love of language that has pushed her to quietly hone her craft. She recently relocated back to Almost Heaven, West Virginia. Her cat approves this poem. You can read more from Kiley in Ghost City Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, or on Instagram: @kileylee.writing. Follow her on Twitter: @KBogart10
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