Apricity Press Issue 2 March 2017 - Page 29

EMPTY TOMB CHELSEY WEBER-SMITH

Coat of all these cold hands

once love leaves you

what poems do you have?

It left like ten snakes

struggling across the sand

I wait for the colors of the world

to undo this stoney jaw

I bruise and bruise

until the blue

blooms like a resurrection

a rock rolling to the side

and then there’s nothing there

You love a cave full of clothes

don’t you? You love a vanishing

a coin hidden in the palm

the thought that god might

hide in plain sight

everything is easy

everything happens on a carpet

the color of your blood

a tablecloth

ripped from you

the crystal left ringing

like a woman crying

at a cave

Here’s a cave

if I curl myself just right

you can climb inside

and tell me if the ghost

opens

if the wounds make it real

if the blue bruises on its cheeks

makes it flinch