Elegy for Mulberry Leaf

Karissa Morton

below the cityscape
buds half-ripe fruit
in scarlet and wet-grass-chartreuse.
the horizon looms
like human shadow
and habitual handshake,
causing you to shiver
from veins to skin.

and i pray for you,
knelt in private
and silently stammering,
tears evaporating
in the heat,

because you are shaping me
into a mulberry leaf
who lives only for the silkworm,
arching toward hungry mouth
and pleading for a bite.

and if my destruction leads
to a fertile harvest,
my newly-spread wings
will fill the metro with
the wavelengths of breath
and lemon peel starlight.