Fading Like August

A Poem by Kate Morgan

Look at me.

I’m fading like August.

Swollen snow,
vanishing under saltwater and crocuses
my small, gasping hands
searching under a sea of wishes

Finding only

motionless solitude

Thrown out with coins on the eyes
years of whispers decaying on pursed lips.
The mound flattens the cogs in my head,
Your face forever polyester roses.
Trinkets of you peeling my skin,
eating my bones with inevitable numbness.

The twilight of you
Now past.

My punctured grief of this,
your lonesome theatrical bow.
As Time is the greediest lover,
I no longer trace the grain of wood
with trembling hands.
Wishing morbidly, selfishly
for it all back again.

You even sleep in my dreams.