Mikael O'Doughartaigh Poetry

your bones curling into victorian fences,
your fingernails still growing,
out into the dirt-and-grass lands
your letter came in my mailbox not two days ago.

i read it aloud, breathing in each word
porfi [breath] pense [breath] de [breath]
mi. [breath, breath]
I sighed and kept reading, your words becoming foreign
the letters curling into victorian fences

unfortunamente, i read out to my cat, napping in the morning sun
tengo que salirte, y no me veres nunca. lo siento. te quiero, siempre.

i didn't understand it, but i knew we would see each other soon.
i breathed in, waiting for my doorbell to ring

Poet: Mikael O'Doughartaigh