In the house you burned down,
I rose from the ashes laughing like a ghost
that would haunt your dreams.
I thought, I am coming for you.
I thought, I know enough about death.
My anger was a baby bird I cradled in my arms.
It grew to be so large,
its beak breaking on your name
— my mouth the same.
It took years to tempt my body from smolder to spark,
snapping to life,
engulfing everything in flames.
There are no words for how my hands blistered,
and scabbed, and scarred…
and how I would not change it.
At night, I circle the sky above where you sleep.
In your dreams I am still a ghost
Katrina Gray is a twenty-seven year old Canadian who wants to be best friends with Margaret Atwood. She has been published twice previously: once in Persephone’s Daughters magazine, and a second time on Words Dance Publishing’s website. For more bemusement you can follow her on tumblr at: www.persephonesgirlhood.
