Winter is on my tongue
Summer’s in my heart
It’s been six days since we’ve grown apart.
You warned me of signs
I didn’t believe
Now I sit, disembodied as I grieve
One day I won’t hurt so
Your empty closets I venture to and fro
shall not carry secrets
hidden like a pro.
Winter’s on my tongue
and my words should leave a spark
twisting the dull knife for which you laid a mark.
– Latanya M. Ivey ©2019