I wish I were like Johnny Cash & thought my heart was mine.
I’ve worn a black suit my entire life. It suits the war my eyes ignite.
My sins sit on my lap, bald, blind, desperate for the mercy of lost roads, glottal white lines.
Only smoke will take me far to nowhere—
a woman living
between her own burning road
& a charmed God—
the unmarked sky where a plague of blackbirds
fell across my back like an unlit cross.

Copyright © 2015 by Rachel Eliza Griffiths. Used with permission of the author. |
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