It lands atop your lower lip. Wings fan
expanse of freckled cheeks. You grip her hand.
a sister near, while it expands wingspan,
symbiotic fear. You must understand
the tutor speaks, a lantern light she shines,
expires in weeks. It pines the mouth it lost
to gain these wings. You have become a shrine,
and it is visiting. Familiar cost,
you know it well, a mother’s love, something
they say, above, is flowering, was changed
then dead, a scarlet fever offering
you life instead of winged things, estranged,
who crawled then sacrificed their mouths to fly
to be ethereal before they died.
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated sonnet stalker. Her poetry has stalked magazines like Glass, Yes, Five:2: One, Former Cactus, Occulum & many more. She has six chapbooks including Shakespeare for Sociopaths (Hedgehog Poetry Press), Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Puritan U (Rhythm & Bones Press March 2019) and The Legend of the Were Mer (Thirty West Publishing House March 2019). Her full length, Candy Cigarette, is forthcoming April 2019 (The Hedgehog Poetry Press), and she has a fantasy collaborative full length A Victorian Dollhousing Ceremony forthcoming in June (Rhythm & Bones Lit). Follow her on Twitter (@lolaandjolie), and her website kristingarth.com
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