the desert in between
grackle cloaked in purple-black sheen glares with one golden eye | this land lies supine under a moth-eaten sky | whir of dragonfly wings in the hushed desert night | |
| wind wails through the emptied eyes of a coyote’s skull |
vulnerable, bruised | lake crawls back and into herself |
gray-white ash left on her unmade bed |
|
demon’s breath on my face | thorn-coated tongue licks sweat from my neck
|
| hooded moon turns her pallid face to dark |
| saguaro’s corpse beside a rattler coiled nearby |
twisted, dry | horned owl calls at midnight |
|
cricket click-crawls |
| a hiss rises like two hands from the ground |
I step outside these words and find you—
Natasha N. Deonarain is the author of two chapbooks, winner of the 2020 Three Sisters Award and Best of the Net Nominee. She was born in South Africa, grew up in Canada and currently lives in Arizona.