Postcard from Eve
       

You wake up in Dresden
where shadows have shadows.

A sentence atrophied,
you will order tea

after every meal, the leaves
and spices like the t-shirts

and underwear in your duffel.
You've been steeping in the rain,

in the streets where you speak
to no one.

You will sigh, you had a lover,
once, who carved his name

into your back. A knife
or a tongue, does it matter?

Inside you, someone else's weather.
The taste of snow

in your teeth and no one
to warm you.

Tweet

Copyright © 2021 Carly Sachs All rights reserved
from Delphi Series Vol VIII
Blue Lyra Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission