CLASP by Sophie Klahr and Corey Zeller

/ / Issue 16, Poetry, Uncategorized

You were a room filled with paintings
of storms in the style of Turner
and each was gold—

end-of-day gold; gold
as you want me to be. Gold
as a sweet horse in a picture book.

Gold in that way, your way;
Gold when it’s lost,
how it seems more gold.

A girl’s tooth. That one you
saw in an elevator, took home
after. Fool’s gold.
Fool-me-once gold, come

twice gold. Your gold
chain as you hold yourself
over me, that rests in my mouth

like a horse’s bit.

 

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