Two Poems by Kiley Creekmore



COSTUME PARTY IN THE CEMETERY AND A LOVE STORY PART IV


We forgot to lay out our bones

in the places

perpendicular

to the sea

under the October stars.

This year I wanted to play

Andromeda

while you be my sea monster

and swallow me whole.

I wanted you to taste my whole

body: hair, eyes, teeth, and skin

sliding through your throat until

I lay in your belly; dark, warm,

and protected.

This time I wanted to be inside

of you.


Last year you played Perseus while I

played Medusa.

You cut off my head before I could scream

and betrayed my beauty with a bag.

You made love to my torso later

that night

on the granite stones and rusty leaves.

I tell you it’s too late now

it’s almost November, and I can’t

find my femur.

But you tell me that time doesn’t matter,

don’t I remember?

When you are dead

time doesn’t exist.





ISIS IS SICK OF FINDING ICARUS DRUNK BEHIND THE SHED


You wanted your birds back

so I told you to go find them

in that hole under the blackberry bush

because your preying posture isn’t perfect yet

and your bones are not porous enough

and your heart doesn’t know the intensity

of ten swords yet

and you have never died yet in the morning

with the rising sun burning caricatures of

all the creatures you have ever loved into your eyes,

and because you betrayed me and yourself

(most of all)

by clipping your wings

and attaching them to the field mice

behind the shed.

Those bastardized birds knew all your secrets

and so I ripped out their throats

because you aren’t ready to talk yet, but

I already know.

And the hole under the blackberry bush

is deep enough for you to

hide your head from the setting sun.





Kiley Creekmore is a writer residing somewhere in the universe with cats and satyrs. Her poetry has most recently been published in Gyroscope Review, The Ginger Collect, and Street Light Press.

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