Turn of the Word

Elizabeth Kate Switaj

no signs remain to capture

language remains

lie in its shattered

bulbs discovered made to melt

& even strokes

bent & broke to bleed

            those beloved cheeks


not especially skilled

but born bent around best nouns

& adjectives their only marks

tiny pigment angel   kisses

their verbs

            & someone fought

to tear their wings & down

              lights & signs

(no way to say       \this was me\

this /k/new language

               has no author \it\y