You paint her eyes jet black
when God rays part the clouds.
You pry her open when she swallows
the words slip off her tongue.
You possess her smile stretched tight
until her lips bleed love.
You cut your wings, she free fall falls
and catch her once again
Karen Crawford lives and writes in the City of Angels. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Cheap Pop, Maudlin House, Sage Cigarettes, and elsewhere. You can find her on Twitter @KarenCrawford_