Translation Lost, or the Sound of Memory Leaving

Kayla King

You had to tell them I was dead.

Inaccuracy slipped from the side 

of your mouth like a moth wing ripped 

beneath the window pane. 

People leave unredeemed.

Time never stills, 

but undresses. And there’s beauty 

in disaster, the way glass shatters 

from windows upon impact.

Throw back your head,

and laugh. It’s the midding. 

Goodbye from beyond the window;

a conversation overheard and stolen,

stuck in a sentence somewhere. 

But not here.

---

Kayla King is the author of These Are the Women We Write About, a micro-collection of poetry published by The Poetry Annals. Her fiction and poetry has been published by Firewords Magazine, Sobotka Literary Magazine, and Fearsome Critters among others. You can follow Kayla’s writing journey over at her website: kaylakingbooks.com or her twitterings @KaylaMKing.  

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