LETTERS TO LETTERS NEVER SENT
A gathering of tinder. Brush of kindling. A lungful of warm-blooded words
and braids of breath set
fire. The swollen heap burning holes in open sky. Glimpses of sudden blue. Branches splitting
down the center. The marrow scraped dry, unearthing the loose skin
of secrets. Tough wood charring word after word in black scratch.
Hasty and in haze. The beating page and loud silences cooled off,
died down in months of wind and water. Smoke and stress quieted.
to a dull pang. Cold coal, dusty ash, whispers.
SARAH KELLEY is a student in the MFA poetry program at Columbia College Chicago, where she also co-edits Columbia Poetry Review.