Landscape in Two Colors [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]
A Collage
1. Winter [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]
Breath on a window
resembles a plain of snow.
White is heated cold.
When they moved into the A frame,
she sang Take the A Train
with an annoying, deep-breath beat.
She pressed her face to the door glass
so she could see her notes
block out the open space.
He painted, rearranging the faces of women,
turning their bodies into wholesome prairies
of brush-fire lines.
She grew into a landscape woman
who had no love of words
and their curling-tongue torso of noise.
2. Spring [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]
Her appetite was all; encompassing
her broken compass mind
that waved from right
to sinister left.
She wanted to grow as big as the earth,
to swallow it like a living aphrodisiac
that would encourage her wildness
and to prepare her for recreating a world
without leftovers.
First, she hid a lone twinkie under the bed,
a goldensweet secret,
then she hung licorice like bedroom vines
and imagined food to be meals of planets,
lakes, and mountains on her celestially blank, china plate.
3. Summer [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]
He used their full-view mirror to practice pirouettes.
He considered his nightly movements as a violation
in tights but, in truth, the tutu was too tiny to try on.
His paintings were no longer rural, but cosmopolitan, neon scenes.
The city was a woman barer than bare,
he was knotted tight at the height of her hip,
blinded by the glitter and feathers on her thighs.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
4. Fall [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]
If you asked her
her name before she could speak,
in answer
she would raise her forefinger
like an accusing arrow aimed at the sky.
Now, her voice is a constant harvest
of terse words.
She remembers when he watered her thoughts
into bloom, before he cut them into even rows.
This last decade recalls her lost years,
pulling at her meat, first like a stubborn crow,
then more softly, as an insistent, toddling
tug at her sleeve.
5. Winter [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]
The evening is coffee without cream.
Her black, tailored bob is the most recent descendant
in a long line of hairstyles he hates.
He wished her hair to be ancestral platinum snow,
a glacier Marilyn Monroe,
and longed her stomach to be an ice-covered lake.
He thought a woman should taste like lemon sorbet.
But she was closer to bubbling kettle steam,
a hot chocolate Josephine.
6. Spring [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]
The sun is a brass pendulum swinging between seasons.
Ice dies only to be revived.
Both boots and sneakers wait by the door,
taking alternate turns outside.
Barefoot, indoors,
She looks at his watch, waiting for warmth.
By the next sun shift
she has moved
to a ticker-tape town
full of height and haughtiness.
Being a better woman
has become her occupation.
It becomes her.
Professing
nothing of her own,
she is released like a balloon
on inaugural day,
and refuses
to come back to earth
like tawdry confetti.
- Kat Isacson
[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]