She has not yet learnt how sunrise breaks
Slips loose of grip
She breaks in shards
White knuckles, twinkling more primal than glass
Eyes rolled back to their whites
Eels tying themselves into knots
Of toxic shock under her skin.
She refuses tide
A lake for the children to skate across
She refuses sunshine
She wants to keep every one of their footprints.
They roll her balled fists into effigies
To offer scarves and hats and carrots.
The boys throw rocks at her freeze
Shatter the puddles where her breath bubbles
She kisses them with bruises, bumps
Becomes untouchable beneath them
Sends the blood from their fingers, toes
The hot swell of its rush reminds her of
The icicle she once lost in someone’s mouth.
She wishes she could keep their imprints
Fast like rock.
She spits at the sun
As it paints her chest gold
Reveals the grit beneath
The city splashes her back into its gutters
And the clouds gather her remains
To scatter somewhere out to sea.