Amazon in the land of oranges—Martha Courtot

i am a woman in ice
Martha Courtot

i am a woman in ice
melting

piece by piece
slowly
i am divested
of the cold cage

sharp as glass
the splinters fall at my feet
do not cut yourself

when i listen
to the trains wail
i can feel
through underground caverns
of stalactal promises

the earth
full and steady
under me
move

i never thought
i’d love the sun again
but now my fingers move
in a panic
of wanting to be burnt.

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