Two Poems

Two Poems
by Sophie Apps

“Untie Me”

Time buried me in a casket – I gorge on your name;

Hungry for a different set of vowels and consonants.

In the dark, men come out to play; picking pockets.

My heart is a dead woman’s ring; her wrinkled skin;

The faded photograph of her husband – taken things.

I am tricked – you swallowed those three words I

Love You, fending them off with my clay ribs.

Loving you is a red ribbon asphyxiating; a noose

Necking; the air stuffed into an asthmatic’s lungs.

I am a masochist masticating on heartbreak.

These ribbons cuff my hands; binding our bodies.

Please don’t untie me is twirling and twisting like

rhythmic gymnastics spelt and spun into satin.

Slash, slice, axe my body; would it be love if I left?

“The Bridged Blood of a Dreamer”

I am the girl at the gas station

With flowers flowing through my hair;

Tourists trample through,

Pushing with elbows that hit like baseball bats.

I wish I could drive.

You are a metropolitan ellipsis;

Your hills are towering goosebumps on my chest

My loneliness is undressed, in this city; who am I?

You are everywhere I have been, and everywhere I have not.

Something familiar, but foreign; a mother’s face mended

Onto a fish’s frame. They cannot swim as we can.

I am the girl that has tasted your sea

But not swept in your swindling

Like these natives washed ashore with dyed dispositions.

They traded return tickets for clam currencies

And red-bricked boxes on floor one.

But, not me – I am the girl at the gas station.

There are girls frothing poetry

With dead flowers in their hair

Collecting coins in their coffins.

Their lunch breaks are over:

Back to signing worthless notepads.

I am the girl in the gas station.

City, do you notice me?

Or am I another speckle of blood

Marring your ironed fingers.

They think they love you,

But they don’t love you as I do.

I am the girl that birthed your gas fire.

Those nameless burning bodies

Are manufactured like jars of candy;

Their hands cannot even say goodbye,

But we gaze – me and the city –

At the bridged blood of the dreamers

That makes you stand.


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