counting

grapes don’t last, keep a raisin in your pocket.
you’ll miss the way it feels to hold something so small.

while you carry it, just count with me.
1: i don’t know where to go. you’re scheming, i’m unloading.
2: bring a lamp. tell me what you’re saying, or just run. 
3: i wasn’t cold before you. egg whites on your eyelids aren’t enough,
i just waited too long. you said warmth was too kind.

what is it now?

 
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saskiag

VT

YWP Alumni

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  • Poetry

    By saskiag

    it was me

    my eyelid is so soft in the bent ikea light.

    quickly, that i'll bend to gum. turn to analysis and that’s what keeps me there, i’d burn the glass as the kitchen scale

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  • Poetry

    By saskiag

    chives

    born by chives, wisteria. i’ve been well but embalmed by last night;
    i can’t carry one’s bone to my house, can’t sew a ripened meal with a buried hand.

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  • Poetry

    By saskiag

    claudia in first grade

    sometimes i rip ginger from the root; bite down, it makes my eyes water.
    (turns my spit to heat)
    i won’t ask to have it repeated because i feel a child among the ones who carry solid teeth.

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