(i)
you cried sunflower oil
and i collected the roots
of a long forgotten
cold breath
and planted it
in the wing of a paper bird
flying north
across stone patio walls
making the sound
of an elderly widow
awaiting death
by a tearful shadow
(ii)
a swan bathed in your oil
it's throat
inhaling my hunger
and a song that you could not sing
i was wrinkled
holding a candle west of the
sunshine resonance
(iii)
the moon sounded my name
where a child
could chase butterflies
in this existence
only stopping
upon feeling the devastating
emotion of happiness
(iv)
i stood breathless
in a photograph
of a Chinese river setting
holding your beads
up to the warmth
of a summer rainfall
asking a somber boat
in the distance
where a morning
once lived with her ashes
why it took
her voice away
from me.
Honorable mention
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