Between us —
i’m rooting rough
for full on fall of
them to crumble
down to charred
up ash so softened
sparks of sweeter
roots have stark
Heartier than the sugared chirps
Three teen girls stride down
the street, arms linked, their
singing ringing heartier than
the sugared chirps of western
bluebirds paired and perched
atop my fence’s cypress planks.
The girls snort-laugh, loud and
safe. I want this for them always.
Don’t you dare die before you see a proper
sunrise sky. face pure east on atlantic beach.
sit softly upon sand, sift simply sans agenda.
wait beneath swirled coral twists who foretell
before the keynote. do nothing
and breathe everything into your coldest crevice —
the one who’s refused to soothe and waits raw along
your edges. and when the warming
circle cracks into the clear horize
believe it’s there for you
because it’s there for you.
even those who’ve bled me cold,
i’d wish their souls this knowing.
Oakley Ayden (she/her) is an autistic, bisexual writer from North Carolina. Her poems appear in Ghost City Review, The Cabinet of Heed, Maw: Poetry Journal, Not Very Quiet, Neologism Poetry Journal, The Minison Project, Sledgehammer Literary Journal and elsewhere. She lives in California’s San Bernardino National Forest with her two daughters. Find her on Twitter (@Oakley_Ayden) or Instagram (@Oakley.Ayden).
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.