the taste of salt

she once moved in the rain
and the rain misted and
latched through
her tired skin like
cobwebs, it sank
she drank it
in like an ocean
because the
saltspray
was sharper
than glitter.
it
conjured up the
ghosts of you that
soared through
veins and left
fingerprints on the
branches of her favourite
tree, that stood where
maybe a heart once
throbbed proud;
but you
you taught her how when the
sun was phantom the
branches fractured and
twisted like creased piano
hands that reached for
her hair
-cinnamon and vanilla spice
blackbirds fly out of her ears and
she wishes for the leaves of
autumn to clasp her cold cold
hands; wrap them like
gifts for idle children and
paint them with the afternoon
haze of chestnut and
blackberry taste
oh,  but she was a winter
girl she was
a winter
girl

she crushed the wings of
dragonfly jewels between long
fingers, she tore the eyes from
young fire
flies
because she didn't know they were
streetlights and that they
sewed ribbons and patched up
torn fabric
torn by
winter
girls

there's a sailing boat swaying on silent
seas and you are standing on deck as
she drinks from the moon's chalice
and collects craters in wicker baskets.
you watch as she stumbles and
crumbles and scratches in each
crater for traces of your face.
you see her tears drop into
the sea and burn up in the mist as
she seeks for the hints of your eyes

she yearned for the beads of green
green grass and concrete slabs to
pull her down to nailed ground but
this,
all this was a
lie she told herself in her
sleep because she
was a
winter girl oh she was
a winter
girl